


Six Weeks

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [134]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Anxiety Disorder, Consent Issues, Depression, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt, Family Issues, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Implied Consensual But Unsafe BDSM, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Rehabilitation, Suicidal Thoughts, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 01:59:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 64,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2450462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A problem ignored for 22 years takes more than six weeks to fix. Think you can wait?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Weeks

**Author's Note:**

> On June 27th, 2013, we posted the last chapter of Trois, the final fic cycle in Story of Three Boys. We knew we had one more big story to tell in this ’verse, and we knew that we’d want to take a little time off before we started working on it. We anticipated beginning Six Weeks within a month or so of completing Trois. 
> 
> What we couldn’t have anticipated was Cory Monteith’s sudden death just over two weeks after posting Trois. Due to the nature of his death and the events preceding it, the content of Six Weeks was a little too raw for us, so we shelved the project for a full year, returning to it in late summer of 2014. The first ten thousand words were a struggle, but once we really got into the meat of the story, it came more quickly and less painfully. Hopefully all of you will find the delay understandable. 
> 
> There probably isn’t much left to say about david of oz and his fantastic editing that we haven’t said before, but once again, our most sincere thanks to him for his years of dedication to this project. Additional thanks to separatrix for beta-reading and to bicrim for acting as a professional consultant on the issue of substance abuse treatment.
> 
> The downloadable playlist for Six Weeks can be found [here](http://storyof3boys.livejournal.com/146503.html).
> 
> As always, remember to click on any links you might come across while reading. 
> 
> **Warnings:** Alcoholism and recovery; mental health (including depression, anxiety, and PTSD); brief mention of suicidal ideation; implied consensual but unsafe BDSM; family dysfunction and turmoil; discussion of past issues of consent.

Eliza pastes on a smile the morning after Labor Day, putting on the required uniform. Noah is the one who goes with her, because it’s still her first day of school, and they still need a picture, even if none of them are happy about how it’s happening. Rachel is already standing on the steps outside the school, wearing too much lipstick and scowling at everyone. 

As soon as she spots Eliza, though, she scowls at Noah and switches to a bright fake smile at Eliza. “Aren’t you excited?” Rachel coos at Eliza, and Noah thinks it’s a measure of Eliza’s maturity that she doesn’t roll her eyes. Eliza nods instead, but it’s apparently not enthusiastic enough for Rachel. “I _said_ , aren’t you excited?” Rachel asks again, and this time her voice sounds like steel. 

“Yes, Mom,” Eliza says, and Noah recognizes the too-bright tone in Eliza’s voice along with the extra-fake smile. It satisfies Rachel apparently, however, and she makes Eliza pose for a variety of photos. Noah gets exactly two that look like genuine Eliza. Both of them result in Rachel insisting that they aren’t what she wants to display as her daughter’s first day of high school, but they’re what Noah wants, and they’re what Kurt and Finn will want, too. 

“Give me a kiss,” Rachel insists, and this time Eliza does roll her eyes as she complies, pressing her lips to Rachel’s cheek. “Make lots of friends! Meet some cute boys!”

Noah rolls his eyes at that one, which at least makes Eliza smile genuinely, and then she darts around Rachel to give Noah a hug. “Thanks, Papa,” she whispers, and then, “I’m sorry.” Before Noah can even start to formulate a response, Eliza pulls away and hurries up the stairs and into the building. 

“It’s so nice that at least _one_ of the girls will get some proper Jewish instruction,” Rachel says snottily to Noah, who rolls his eyes again. He knows Rachel’s still angry that Eliza chose to do her bat mitzvah at CBST, but he doubts Charlie will want one at all, especially knowing that Rachel would like her to have one. 

Noah doesn’t end up saying anything, putting away his camera instead, and when he looks up, Rachel is gone. It’s probably for the best, since Noah is sitting on several snotty remarks of his own. When he gets home, Finn is already drinking, and when Finn turns his back for a moment, Kurt discreetly holds up two fingers. Kurt’ll cut him off after a third one, probably, and then they’ll go upstairs and fuck, trying to forget that Eliza’s at a school that’s the exact opposite of what they want for the kids, and especially trying to forget that Rachel’s still trying to get Eliza to come and live with her during the school year, all under the guise of religion. 

The first two weeks of Eliza’s new school aren’t quite as bad as Noah anticipates. All three of them go to back-to-school night, which Rachel also attends with a bored-looking Jesse. Eliza’s principal and advisor both look surprised when they realize Noah is in fact Jewish, which makes Noah wonder what, exactly, Rachel told them about Eliza beforehand. When the three of them leave, Rachel follows close behind them, her hand clutching Jesse’s arm to keep him even with her. 

“It’ll be so much easier for Eliza to participate in after-school activities once we get her properly settled with us,” Rachel says loudly to Jesse, who hums noncommittally. “I’ll make sure and talk with her about that this weekend.” 

Finn’s entire face gets stony, but none of them respond, walking away from Rachel as quickly as they can. When they get home, Finn goes straight to the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a drink and then lifting the bottle questioningly at Kurt and Noah. They both nod, and Finn pours a glass for each of them too. None of them knows what to say, and Eliza doesn’t ask them about the evening, which is telling in its own way. 

When she gets home Sunday afternoon from her weekend at Rachel’s, an hour early, Noah is downstairs in the studio, and he looks up surprised. “Eliza? You’re early.” 

Eliza’s face crumples, and she moves into the studio, closing the door behind her. “Where’s Dad?” 

“He’s working upstairs,” Noah answers. “And he’ll go get the Peas from the birthday party they’re at in about half an hour. Daddy’s across the street with Fiver and Nova.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Eliza says, starting to cry, and she puts her overnight bag and backpack down before walking over to Noah and leaning into him like she did as a little preschooler. “I _have_ to, Papa, you don’t know. I don’t want to, I’ll have to tell everyone, even Dad, that I want to, but I have to.” 

“Have to what, sweet potato?” Noah says softly, even though he has a feeling that he knows exactly what Eliza means, and it settles heavy in his stomach. 

“Go live there,” Eliza says through her tears, and Noah tightens his arms around her. “I told her I needed a week. She started talking about Yom Kippur services after that.”

Noah doesn’t know what to think about what Eliza’s saying, just that if Eliza’s claiming that she’s going to tell everyone else that she wants to live with Rachel, all of the contradicting in the world on Noah’s part won’t make that much difference. He can’t figure out what knowledge Rachel has that’s compelling Eliza to make this decision. He isn’t sure if Finn or Kurt will believe him when he tells them that Eliza doesn’t really want to live with Rachel, and that is exactly what happens. No matter what Noah says, both Kurt and Finn are convinced that he’s just trying to make them feel better about Eliza’s decision. 

Everything happens too fast, with lawyers involved by noon on Monday, and when Friday comes, Eliza is only home after school for a few hours, getting her things and packing in a hurry. Rachel of course is insisting that Eliza be at her house in time for Shabbat, because almost all of her official communications and reasonings are couched in concern for Eliza’s religious instruction and upbringing. 

By six o’clock, Eliza is gone, and by six-thirty, Noah’s fed the rest of the kids, Kurt is sitting alone in the living room writing something, and Finn is upstairs in his study drinking. Noah sets the kids up with a movie in the Peas’ room, then goes down to the studio. 

He and Kurt pretend all weekend that they don’t hear Finn crying. 

 

Finn starts cutting his breakfast protein shakes with vodka the morning after Eliza moves in with Rachel. Scotch may be his drink of choice, but the vodka's harder to smell over the strong vanilla scent of the protein powder, and if he adds a little coffee on top, it masks the odor that much better. It's just until he adjusts to Eliza being gone, he promises himself. It's not that different from Noah and his Xanax, a rescue coping mechanism for the short term. It's not like Chicago. 

The shakes come with him to the office and get him through his morning clients. Normally, Finn vastly prefers his child and teenage clients to some of the adult therapy clients his colleagues deal with, but feeling like a failure as a parent himself doesn't instill a lot of confidence in what he has to offer these kids. Eliza chose Rachel over living with Finn, with Kurt and Noah, and with her siblings. How is that not a failure? 

By the time Eliza's been gone for a week, Finn asks Heidi to call Greg Aberdeen about taking on a few of his teenage clients for a while. "A few" turns into "several," plus a handful of his under-twelve clients transferred temporarily to Violet McCreary, so that a month into Eliza living with Rachel, Finn's work schedule is completely clear after one o’clock every afternoon. He doesn't mention the diminished workload to Kurt or Noah, telling himself he'll use the time to work on his next book or the article that _Psychology Today_ had contacted him about writing. Instead, he sends Heidi home at two, then heads to the bar for a couple of drinks before returning to the office to sit alone in the darkening room. 

Logically, Finn knows he’s taking this harder than he should. He’s worked with enough teenagers with separated or divorced parents to know that a kid’s reasons for moving in with the previously non-custodial parent don’t always make sense to the custodial parent, or even to the kid themselves. Maybe it’s like that for Eliza. 

Finn could drive himself crazy with all the maybes. Maybe Eliza wants to try one more time to be the daughter Rachel wishes she were. Maybe Finn waited four years too long to leave Rachel. Maybe he let her do too much damage to Eliza. Maybe he’s been too focused on other things for the past ten years, first on coming home, then on the house, then Nova, then Fiver. Maybe he wasn’t a good enough father. Maybe his mother was right, after all. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

A few more weeks later, Carole, Burt, and Audrey all convene at the Hudson-Hummel house for Thanksgiving. They only have Eliza there until six, when she has to go back to Rachel’s for a formal kosher, vegan meal with Rachel, Jesse, and Rachel’s dads. Carole doesn’t understand why Nova and Fiver keep clinging to Eliza’s arm and leg, respectively, or why Charlie and Harvey are both so sullen. 

While they’re all sitting down to eat, Carole turns to Charlie with a disapproving look. “Why are you in such a bad mood, Charlie? Today’s a holiday.” 

“I hate Rachel Berry,” Charlie says loudly, casting a scornful glance in Eliza’s direction. “She ruins everything.”

Carole gasps and glares at Finn before looking at Charlie again. “Charlie, that’s a horrible thing to say about your mother!” 

“Why? It’s true,” Charlie says. “She’s why Eliza has to leave after we eat, and why she has to go to that stupid stuck-up Jewish school.”

“Yeah,” Harvey says, who is uncharacteristically pissy and glaring more effectively than Carole. “She made Eliza want to leave, and she thinks we aren’t Jewish enough.”

“She calls Harvey my _cousin_ ,” Charlie says, putting more venom into the word ‘cousin’ than Finn would’ve ever thought possible. “She calls Nova and Fiver my half-sisters. She says Eliza’s my only _real_ sister.” Charlie scowls at Eliza. “But at least Harvey and Nova and Fiver didn’t pick Rachel Berry over us.”

Carole gives Eliza a sympathetic look. “Charlie, when you get older, I’m sure you’ll understand. Sometimes teenage girls just want to be around their mom. And I bet your mom would let you go to Eliza’s school, too!” 

“I hate that school!” Charlie says, her voice getting louder and louder. “And I hate _her_! And I hate _you_!”

“Charlie, you’re excused from the table,” Finn says, feeling exhausted and slightly sick. “One of us will come up and talk to you after we’ve finished eating.”

Charlie stand up and shoves her chair in so hard that her water glass spills all over her barely-touched plate of food. “It’s your fault,” she yells at Finn. “It’s all your fault that Rachel Berry stole Eliza!”

Finn doesn’t argue with Charlie, who glares at him for another few seconds before turning and storming up the stairs so loudly that Cleve and Cheese both streak through the room and run underneath the sofa. As Charlie slams her door, Finn sighs, standing up himself and walking into the kitchen, where he pours himself a large glass of scotch, neat. He knocks it back in the kitchen, then pours another before he returns to the table again, setting the glass down by his plate. 

Noah and Kurt have Burt engaged in a conversation about the Browns’ prospects this season, and Nova and Fiver are both picking quietly at their plates, Fiver using her hands instead of her fork. Audrey focuses her attention studiously on the girls. Harvey is eating very precisely and politely while he maintains a steady glare at Carole, who is avoiding eye contact with him. 

As soon as Kurt goes upstairs to talk to Charlie, the other children go up to their rooms, and Eliza leaves for the kosher vegan Thanksgiving dinner, Carole walks over to Finn, lips pursed. “Finn, it is absolutely inappropriate the way you allow Charlie to talk about her mother! In front of Eliza! I’m sure as a therapist you know the importance of both parents talking well about each other.” 

“Mom, I’m really not interested in having this conversation right now,” Finn says, working his way through his third consecutive scotch. 

“And it’s very understandable why Rachel would tell Charlie that about her… siblings,” Carole continues, as if Finn hadn’t said a word. “Even if you disagree with Rachel, you should make sure Charlie understands that.” 

“You need to leave,” Finn says.

“I think you should really consider increasing the amount of time Charlie spends with her mother—”

“You need to get up onto your goddamn feet and walk out of my house,” Finn says loudly, setting his empty glass down with a hard bang. “Get up. Get out.”

“Okay, darling?” Noah says quietly, appearing beside Finn, and then turns to Carole. “You heard him.”

“I— I only have the best interests of the girls in mind,” Carole says, but she stands up, looking around for Burt as she starts to walk away from Finn. 

“Burt!” Finn shouts. “You need to come get your wife and get her the fuck out of my house!”

“What’s going on in here?” Burt asks. “Finn, I think maybe you’ve had a little too much to dr—”

“Like I said to Carole, you heard him,” Noah says to Burt. “I only heard part of what she said, but you need to revisit what we all discussed several years ago about _all_ of the kids.” 

“Now Noah, Finn, let’s all take a second to calm down here,” Burt says.

“I’ll calm down when you get her the fuck out of my house!” Finn says loudly, realizing he’s slurring his words slightly, but not actually giving a fuck. 

“Leave,” Noah says firmly to Burt and Carole, then turns his back on them as he steps in front of Finn. “They’re leaving,” he says quietly. 

“Not fast enough!” Finn shouts at them. “You and Rachel deserve each other!” he adds, aiming his words at Carole. 

“What’s going on?” Kurt says, coming down the stairs and into the room with a frown. 

“Finn’s had too much to drink, and he’s unhappy with his mother,” Burt says. “We’re heading back to the hotel.”

Kurt’s frown deepens. “I heard her at dinner, Dad. Don’t make excuses for your wife.” He walks over to Finn and Noah, and Noah whispers something to Kurt, who nods. 

“Like I said, we’re going. If you want to talk about this later, you can give me a call,” Burt says, putting his arm around Carole and directing her towards the door. “Audrey, honey, we’ll see you later. Kids, we love you.”

“I wish I were a fucking orphan!” Finn shouts at Carole’s back as she and Burt hurry out the door towards the stairs. As soon as he hears the door slamming downstair, he screams “Fuck!” and picks up his glass again, storming towards the kitchen.

“And don’t come back for leftovers!” Finn hears Charlie shouting from the doorway to the third story stairs. He pours himself another scotch, knocking it back in one swallow, then pours yet another, keeping the bottle in hand as he heads for the stairs. “Charlie, go finish your food,” he says, brushing past her. 

“You told me I was done with my food,” Charlie says.

“Just go downstairs and finish it,” Finn says, continuing up the stairs. 

“Darling?” Kurt calls. Finn doesn’t answer. He just shuts the door to his bedroom, locking it behind him, and sitting down on the floor by the window with the scotch bottle propped against his leg and his empty glass on his knee. After just a minute of sitting here, he hurls the glass across the room, picking up the bottle to take a swig as he hears the glass hit the wall and shatter. That night he stays in his own bedroom, drinking until he passes out. Nobody mentions it the next day.

After the Thanksgiving break, Finn continues making his vodka-coffee protein shakes and hitting the bar for “lunch” after Heidi leaves for the day. He also calls Victor, whom he hasn’t seen much of lately, to meet him for a drink after work, the first Wednesday after Thanksgiving. Finn has already had a double scotch before Victor arrives. He stands to clasp Victor in a one-armed hug, and then they sit.

“So how’s retirement treating you?” Finn asks. “And how’s it going with Devon and the baby?”

“My knee wishes I’d retired earlier,” Victor says ruefully. “Devon’s great, and the adoption’s almost finalized.” 

“That’s great news, man. Happy to hear it,” Finn says. 

“How about you? How’s that littlest one of yours?” 

“She’s doing pretty good. Missing Eliza.”

Victor shakes his head slowly. “How’s that going for Eliza?” 

“She doesn’t really have much to say about it,” Finn says. “We barely see her. Rachel won’t let her come over until after Saturday services, most of the time, and Eliza doesn’t argue with her about it, and she asked me not to, either.” 

“That doesn’t seem right,” Victor says, then changes the subject. “Any new projects at work?” 

“I’ve been cutting back on clients. Trying to focus on the writing for a while, you know?”

“Another book?” 

“Kind of. Article for _Psychology Today_ , too, but they’re both slow going,” Finn says. He taps his glass when the bartender comes by, indicating another drink. 

“Better you than me,” Victor jokes. 

“You have no idea,” Finn says. “We should make this a standing thing. I don’t think I get out enough.”

Victor looks surprised for a second or two, then nods. “Wednesdays are good for you?” 

“Yeah, Wednesday’s fine.”

“It’s a plan, then,” Victor says. 

Finn doesn’t mention to Kurt or Noah that he’s meeting Victor for drinks on Wednesdays after work. Noah says something about Finn’s work keeping him later than usual, and Finn nods. By the end of December, though, he’s not just stopping on Wednesday nights, and it’s usually _not_ to meet Victor or anyone else. He leaves the office early enough to have a drink or two before heading home, where Noah or Kurt usually pours him one, which covers up the smell of the ones they don’t know he’s already had. There’s no need for them to worry about him unnecessarily. 

 

Kurt pours the wine before dinner. It’s the start of the long Martin Luther King Junior weekend, and while they don’t have any particular plans, he still doesn’t want them to wake up the next morning and start their Saturdays hungover. There isn’t much wine in each glass, and he puts the remainder away before they sit down. 

After dinner, Kurt sees Finn pour himself a scotch, and after the kids are all in bed, Kurt sees Finn pour himself a second one. Much more than that and some of Kurt and, presumably, Noah’s plans for the evening won’t necessarily be possible, so Kurt slides the scotch back into the liquor cabinet when Finn leaves the kitchen. 

The three of them are sitting in the living room when Finn starts to stand up, glass in hand, and Kurt puts his hand on Finn’s thigh. “Sit back down, darling.” 

Finn sits, still holding the glass. Kurt gives Finn a firm look, and Finn sets the glass down on the end table. Kurt smiles slightly and nods.

“Did we still want to go to that movie tomorrow afternoon?” Noah asks. 

“Sure,” Finn says, sounding a bit detached. 

“I’ll make sure someone’s here with the kids, then,” Noah says. “K, you coming down to the theatre Sunday afternoon or not?” 

Kurt thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. “I’ll stay around here. Finn, do you have anything else you have to do this weekend?” 

“Not really,” Finn says. 

“Maybe we’ll all have plenty of time upstairs then?” Kurt suggests. 

“Yeah, sounds good,” Finn says. He starts to stand as he reaches for the glass again. Kurt intercepts his hand, taking it in both of his, and shakes his head a little. 

“Maybe we should go on upstairs,” Kurt says with a small smile. 

“Yeah, sounds even better,” Finn says. As he stands the rest of the way, he grabs Noah’s hand and pulls. “Come on, baby.”

Noah grins, standing up with Finn’s urging. “Sounds good to me.”

 

Noah is downstairs in the studio. It’s late February, he’s downstairs in the studio, the kids are all in bed including Eliza, who is at least there for the night, somewhat unusually, and Kurt and Finn are upstairs in Finn’s bedroom. Since they’re in the bedroom, Noah doesn’t have the studio door closed, taking care to make sure he’s not playing anything too loudly, and that he pauses periodically to listen for little feet. 

He’s pausing to do just that when he hears not little feet, but bigger feet, and after a moment he identifies the person walking on the main floor and then starting down the stairs as Kurt. It takes him a moment because there’s something off, something not right, about the way Kurt is walking. He doesn’t hear Finn, either, not even when he stands up and goes to the door, straining to listen, and that’s why he sees Kurt as soon as Kurt gets down the stairs. 

Kurt is barely dressed, a pair of pajama pants pulled on crookedly, and he has his robe half on, one hand holding it closed, and all Noah can think when he looks at Kurt’s face is ‘shock’. 

“We need to go,” Kurt says. 

“Go?” Noah says blankly, because he still can’t figure out what’s happening. “What’s going— _shit_ , K!” 

Kurt lets the robe fall open, and his other arm is just dangling at his side, and Noah can tell immediately that Kurt’s not really controlling it. “He didn’t mean to,” Kurt says, sounding more out of it than he did even seconds earlier. “But it hurts, baby.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure it does,” Noah manages to get out, walking the few steps to Kurt and pulling the robe back over Kurt’s arm before slowly turning Kurt towards the stairs again. Part of him wants to run upstairs, to figure out what really happened, but if Kurt says they need to go—probably to the ER, Noah figures now that he’s seen Kurt’s arm—then that’s what they’ll have to do first. He fumbles for his phone as they walk up the stairs, sending a message to Syd, since she’s the closest. Eliza’s still awake, and the kids probably won’t wake up, but Noah doesn’t know what’s going on with Finn, so it’s probably better if there’s another adult around Finn, for the kids and for Finn. 

“Think he stopped for a drink,” Kurt continues in the same detached tone as they reach the top of the stairs. 

“Maybe so,” Noah says, stopping to get his own coat before tossing Kurt’s gently over him. Noah’s so close to panicking, and he knows it, but his backpack is by the door and he grabs it. His meds are in the backpack, and at some point he’ll find a bottle of water. He lets Kurt lean on him while they try to flag down a passing cab, and finally one stops after what feels like forever. Noah’s pretty sure it only feels that way because his thoughts are racing, on Kurt and Finn and the kids all at once, and once they’re in the cab, headed for the ER, he realizes he’s gotten a message back from Syd that she is on her way over. Everything feels like he’s in a tunnel, and Noah realizes as they approach the ER what the problem is. It’s the first time in well over twenty years he’s had this big of an anxiety flare-up without Kurt, Finn, or the both of them there to help. Finn’s at home, maybe drunk, and Kurt’s in worse shape than Noah, and Noah doesn’t know what to do, but he has to figure it out, because he’s the only one left even close to standing. 

He stops inside the ER doors next to a water fountain, downing a Xanax as fast as he can fumble the bottle open, then guides Kurt up to the check-in desk. “He’s in a lot of pain and is kind of out of it because of that,” Noah says to the person behind the desk, because that seems like the best explanation. “Can he get a place to lie down and maybe something for the pain?” 

“We’ll go ahead and triage him right now,” he says, opening a door and waving the two of them back. “You’re his—”

“Husband,” Noah supplies, nodding. “Yeah, I can fill out the paperwork.” It’s probably lucky that generally people from Broadway aren’t hanging around emergency rooms around 9:30 or 10 at night, Noah thinks, though the chance of Kurt being recognized like this is slim, and at least fewer people tend to recognize Noah on sight. Still, Noah’s thankful the two of them are ushered out of sight, a curtain pulled as a nurse hands Noah a tablet with forms pulled up, then turns to start evaluating Kurt. 

Noah inputs all of their information, half-listening to the questions the nurse asks Kurt as well as Kurt’s somewhat confused responses. They’re confused until Noah hears the nurse ask how Kurt sustained the injury. 

“None of your business,” Kurt snaps. 

“We need to know if we should screen for domestic violence,” the nurse says, somewhat apologetically, looking between Kurt and Noah. 

Kurt glares. “Noah wouldn’t. And all you need to know is it was sustained during consensual activities.” 

The nurse looks puzzled, then flushes and makes a note on the chart. Noah goes back to his tablet, handing it over at the same time the nurse finishes. 

“Someone’s on their way to insert an IV and start pain medication,” the nurse says to Noah, after noticing Kurt’s outburst has taken enough out of him that he’s lying back, eyes closed. “Then he’ll be taken back to a bed in the ER as soon as one is free.” 

“Okay,” Noah says, nodding a little as the nurse closes the curtain. Noah sits down in the chair crammed against the half-bed, half-chair in the triage area, and he grabs Kurt’s uninjured hand. “Pain meds,” he tells Kurt, who nods, his eyes still close. 

“He didn’t mean to,” Kurt mumbles. “You know how he is.” 

“Yeah,” Noah says softly, because he knows exactly what Kurt means, but he’s also furious that Kurt’s hurt at all, and he doesn’t really know what happened. It’s probably best he’s not at home; he and Finn have had enough drunken fights to go the rest of their lives without another one. 

The Xanax really starts to kick in by the time a woman arrives to put in Kurt’s IV. After it’s going, she gives Kurt some pain meds, then helps him into a wheelchair and they move to a real bed. Noah helps the nurse prop Kurt’s injured arm up on some pillows after he’s positioned on his side, and then Noah settles down to wait. 

Kurt dozes through an initial exam, wakes up a little more for an X-ray, and is fully awake and in pain when the doctor does a closed reduction on what might be a dislocated shoulder or an elbow. Noah isn’t sure which, because the doctor mentions both for whatever reason. There’s more pain meds after that, and Noah gets handed a prescription while they explain the sling Kurt needs to wear for two weeks. By the time they leave, Noah’s ready to collapse, but instead they go to the pharmacy, and he takes another Xanax while they wait on Kurt’s pain pills. A part of Noah is grateful, because he doesn’t know what he’s walking into when they get back home. The only thing he really hopes is that the kids have kept sleeping, even Fiver. 

Once they’re in the cab heading back home, Kurt slumped against the window and out of it, Noah sends a message to Michelle and another one to the new psychiatrist, who pays even less attention to Noah than the old one, but is more willing to write whatever prescription Noah says he needs. 

Whatever’s happening, Noah needs maintenance meds again, because he’s the only one who’s going to be with it enough to take care of whatever needs taken care of. He doesn’t know what to expect when they arrive home, other than hoping that the younger kids are still asleep and that Eliza’s managed to either go to sleep or remain unaware that anything’s happened. 

The house is silent when they arrive, and Noah doesn’t analyze that or try to find anyone, just takes Kurt upstairs and puts him in bed. He sits beside the bed for five or ten minutes to make sure Kurt falls asleep and that his arm has enough pillows supporting it, and then he leaves on a lamp and heads back downstairs. 

Finn’s floor is empty, though, and the kids’ floor is silent, all of the kids asleep, even Eliza, and no sign of Finn or Syd. Noah checks the studio and guest bedroom just in case, then heads back up to the main level, where he finds a note stuck to the refrigerator in Syd’s handwriting. 

He stares at the note for what feels like hours, reading and re-reading it, and only the fact that there are six other people sleeping in the house keeps him from screaming. Finn’s gone, will be gone for weeks or however long, because he asked Syd to take him to rehab or something like it, and Noah’s thought from the taxi comes back to him. 

He’s not the only one with it enough to take care of things. He’s just the only one, whether he’s actually capable of it or not. Standing in the kitchen around midnight, he doesn’t feel capable at all. Noah sits down at the table, crumpling Syd’s note in front of him and staring at it. He’d already planned on not getting much sleep. Maybe if he doesn’t sleep at all, he’ll have enough time to figure out what to do for the next twenty-four hours at least. 

 

Finn wakes up to the sound of firm, rhythmic tapping on a door. His eyes feel gritty and heavy as he opens them and looks around the brightly-sunlit room, painted a soft blue. The bed he’s on has no footboard, and the small room contains no other furniture, just a shelf bolted to the wall at bed height, nothing on its surface but a clear plastic cup full of water. The lights are recessed into the wall, the windows are high and don’t have any curtains or blinds. One of the far corners of the room has a small security-style camera bolted into it. 

The tapping continues, followed by a woman’s voice. “Mr. Hudson-Hummel? This is Rishawna from intake. Are you awake?”

Finn’s first attempted “Yeah” is too raspy for Rishawna to hear. His throat feels raw. His _head_ feels raw, the hangover nausea-headache pounding behind his eyes. The crook of his arm hurts when he bends it, and he notices a small square of gauze taped there. He clears his throat and makes himself sit up and take a drink of the water. “Yeah,” he says again, louder this time.

“Good,” Rishawna from intake—intake _where?_ —replies. “You’ve got individual counseling at nine, group counseling at ten, and your attorney is coming by at eight-thirty to look over the rest of your paperwork. Breakfast is served until nine in the cafeteria.”

“No breakfast,” Finn says. His stomach turns over once, turns over again, the sweat beading on his already-clammy forehead. He looks around the room frantically for a trash can, and that, at least, he finds, tucked under the bolted shelf. Finn tumbles off the bed, scrambling for the can and just making it before he starts vomiting violently. Nothing comes out but water, bile, and the remnants of last night’s drunk, all in a sour whiskey-aftermath mess. 

“Mr. Hudson-Hummel?” Rishawna says, her voice gentler this time. “Do you need custodial? I have clean clothes for you, if you’d like a shower.”

“Got it in the can,” Finn croaks. “Shower. Yeah. Five minutes.”

“Okay. I’ll be right out here when you’re ready.”

Finn curls up on the floor near the can, pressing his forehead to the cold linoleum. Last night’s drunk. Kurt. Another wave of nausea rolls through Finn, and this time he barely makes the can again, even though it’s right there.

Kurt. _Kurt_. Kurt pressed against the wall, half-dressed, his hot mouth on Finn’s throat, Finn twisting Kurt’s arm up to hold him there. Kurt’s arm still twisting, twisting too far, Kurt mouth shaping words Finn doesn’t understand, then a pop. Kurt screaming, like he had in Chicago when—

Even clinging to the can, Finn doesn’t make it. “Yeah, custodial,” he calls out weakly, curling up on the floor again, bad shoulder pressed to the ground. Everything’s raw, broken, ruined. He feels half-dead, and that’s one half short of how he should feel. 

The door swings open silently, and all Finn can see of Rishawna is a pair of bright white shoes with smooth toes and the bottom hem of a pair of scrubs, pale pink with little fat angel-babies printed on them. Latex-gloved fingers press against his wrist, shifting and pressing again.

“Your pulse is a little fast, Mr. Hudson-Hummel,” Rishawna says. “I’m going to take your temperature quickly, then I’ll help you to the showers.”

Finn closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in through his nose, opening his mouth enough for the thermometer to slip under his tongue. He’s hit with another wave of nausea, but manages to keep it down until the thermometer beeps and Rishawna takes it out of his mouth. He waves his hand at her as he props himself up onto his other arm. She takes a step back just before he pukes into the can again – mostly. 

“Sorry,” Finn says. He makes a weak attempt to wipe his mouth on the back of his hand, but his hand is actually just as gross as his face. 

“Can you stand?” Rishawna asks. Finn nods. “Don’t do it too quickly. You could still be a little groggy from the medication you were given overnight.” Finn nods again, pushing up onto his knees, and then slowly and carefully using the side of the bed to pull himself up to his feet. “Feel dizzy? You can sit for a minute if you need to.”

This time, Finn directs the handwave at himself. “Gross. Shower would be good.”

“Okay. If you think you’re ready, you can follow me to the showers. They’re just right across the hall,” Rishawna says, taking a step towards the door. 

Finn nods slightly and follows her, his legs weak and shaky. Luckily, the showers really are directly across the hall, because even that short trip is exhausting. They’re met at the door by a linebacker-sized man, also wearing scrubs. 

“Mr. Hudson-Hummel, this is Paulo,” Rishawna says. “He’ll be taking you into the showers and waiting for you there.”

“I think I can make it in fine,” Finn says.

“We’re just looking out for your safety,” Rishawna says. Paulo opens the door, and Finn tries to muster up a smile for Rishawna before he walks into the bathroom. He doesn’t succeed.

“You’re set up in the first stall on the left,” Paulo says, indicating the curtained shower opening. “Soap, shampoo, towels are all in there. Rishawna’s bringing clothes for you for when you’re done.”

“Thank you,” Finn says.

“I’ll be right out here if you need anything,” Paulo says. He sits in a metal chair next to the shower stall.

“I’ll be ok,” Finn says. “Really.”

“And I’ll still be right out here if you need anything, boss,” Paulo says. 

Finn nods and steps into the shower stall, which is one of the double-stall kind, with a little bench seat in the first section and another curtain separating it from the shower. Finn closes the first curtain and undresses, noting that he was in a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. Once he’s naked, he opens the second curtain and goes into the shower section of the stall, then immediately has to put a hand against the wall, the dizziness and nausea hitting him again, underneath it the grogginess Rishawna had mentioned. He turns the water on and steps under it while it’s still icy cold, bracing his hands against the wall. The cold pushes back the about-to-puke feeling, at least, and as he turns his face up towards the water, he feels a little more clear-headed. 

“Everything okay in there, Mr. Hudson-Hummel?” Paulo asks. 

“Yeah,” Finn replies. 

“Need anything?”

“I’m fine,” Finn insists. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Paulo says.

Finn puts his face back under the water. After a few minutes pass like that, he’s able to unwrap the bar of soap on the soap rest and wash up his face and body. He runs out of steam before he shampoos his hair, so he turns off the water and steps back into the front section of the shower, drying himself off cursorily with the towel, which is surprisingly large and fluffy.

“How’s it going, Mr. Hudson-Hummel?”

“Finn,” Finn says. “Call me Finn. And fine. This is a nice towel.”

Paulo laughs. “Nice of you to notice. Not everybody does.”

“Didn’t expect it, I guess,” Finn says.

“It’s a nice place,” Paulo says mildly. “I’m going to hand your clothes in now.”

“Ok. Thanks,” Finn says. Paulo’s hand, clutching a plastic bag, pokes in through the side of the curtain. Finn takes the bag and puts on the fresh t-shirt, underwear, and sweats, all of which he recognizes. “These are all mine.”

“Don’t know that you’d fit into the clothes of anybody else here but me, boss,” Paulo says, laughing again. 

“I didn’t realize I had clothes here.”

“Yeah, you came in with a packed bag like everybody else,” Paulo says. “Ready? I have some flip-flops out here for you.”

Finn slides back the curtain. “Flip-flops?”

“It’s that or slippers. Slide-on shoes only, and all you’ve got are the flip-flops and the slippers.”

“Oh. Ok. Thanks,” Finn says, stepping into the flip-flops Kurt bought for him before their last trip to Pensacola. Thinking about Kurt makes Finn feel nauseated again, so he takes a deep breath and tries to clear his mind. 

“Rishawna said no breakfast?” Paulo asks. Finn shakes his head.

“Yeah. Not up for that. She said my lawyer was coming at eight-thirty, though, right? And there’s more paperwork for— where is this?”

“Park House. It’s a private recovery facility,” Paulo explains. “Ready to go talk to your lawyer?”

“Yeah,” Finn says, because knowing where he is doesn’t clarify how he got here, how long he’s staying, or anything else. He follows Paulo down the hall to a door, which opens into a small conference room, with a table and a few chairs. 

“I’ll wait with you until your lawyer gets here,” Paulo says.

“I’ll be fine,” Finn says. “I’ll probably just put my head down on the table for a few minutes.”

“I’ll stay quiet,” Paulo say, shutting the door and taking a seat at the end of the table. Finn does put his head down on the table, until he hears a gentle tapping at the door. He lifts his head as Paulo stands and has a quick, quiet conversation with whoever is outside. The door opens wider, and Paulo exchanges places with Syd, closing the conference room door behind them, leaving Syd and Finn alone in the room.

“Morning,” Syd says quietly, sitting down next to Finn and putting her hand on his leg. 

“Is Kurt ok? Please tell me he’s ok,” Finn says, putting his hand on top of hers. 

“He’s okay. And he’ll be completely fine sooner than you, I suspect,” Syd says. “How much do you remember of last night?”

Finn sighs softly. “Did I— is it broken?”

“No. Nothing’s broken,” Syd says, her voice still quiet. 

“Shit. Shit, Syd, I fucked up so bad,” Finn says, hanging his head. “I really fucked up bad."

“Which is, I’m sure, why you kept drinking after, and until I got there, when you were barely standing.” Syd sighs and her hand squeezes his leg briefly. “And now you’re here.” 

“Did…” Finn exhales slowly, shaking his head. “They had me committed?”

“Well, that answers my question about what you remember,” Syd says dryly. “No, Finn. They did not have you committed. When I got to your house, you asked me to take you somewhere. So I brought you here.” 

“It’s a psychiatric facility. I just, I assumed, I guess.”

“It’s not technically a psychiatric facility,” Syd says. “It’s a very, very discreet rehab facility.” 

“Oh,” Finn says. “But there’s a camera in the room I’m in. High window, furniture bolted down, plus the babysitter.” He nods his head toward the door. “And slip-on shoes only.”

“That’s because—” Syd stops and sighs. “Two reasons. You were on an IV overnight, a relatively new drug that helps with withdrawal, and also because you’re temporarily under suicide watch.” 

“Ok, the IV, I totally get. Why suicide watch, though?”

“You made some comments last night that suggested it was a good idea,” Syd says after a slight pause. 

“What comments, Syd?” Finn aks.

“I don’t actually want to repeat them. Trust me on this one?” 

“Then write them down, Syd. I want to know.”

“Dammit, Finn. You were asking about how high windows had to be. That kind of thing. Is that enough, or do you need more detail?” Syd asks, her voice sharp. 

Finn doesn’t look up at Syd, but he shakes his head. “Wouldn’t have been the worst thing, though, would it?”

“ _Yes_ , it would have,” Syd says. “At least I know the watch was warranted.” 

“Yeah, well, what happens now? Huh? I twelve-step it out and hope Kurt and Noah can, how’s it go? Accept the things they can’t change?”

“This isn’t a twelve-step program, for starters, and what happens now is you stay here as long as it’s determined you need to be inpatient, and then you go home,” Syd says. 

Finn laughs once, short and bitter. “Yeah. Just like that, I go home? After what happened?”

“I’m not a mind-reader, Finn, but I have known you for a long time.” Syd sighs. “Your biggest blind spot has always been that you don’t think you deserve things.” 

“Well, maybe I don’t. Maybe this time, I don’t deserve to go home.”

“That’s not up to me, but… it’s not up to you either,” Syd says, squeezing Finn’s leg again. “You can have non-legal-paperwork visitors starting next week.” 

Finn shakes his head. “No. No, I can’t do that.”

“I can make sure that’s noted, if it’s what you decide,” Syd says. “I do have to get you to sign a few things before they decide we’ve had enough legal consultation time.” 

“Yeah, whatever I have to sign,” Finn says. “Whatever they need to keep me here, so I don’t fuck anything else up.”

Syd shakes her head and doesn’t say anything as she puts various forms and a check in front of Finn to sign, and then she puts everything away, turning towards Finn. “I’ll probably see you Monday at the latest, if not before. You worry about you right now and right here, okay?” 

Finn nods, then shakes his head. “There’s one more thing.”

“Different shoes?”

“I think I can suffer through the flip-flops,” Finn says, “but, no, I want you to get some paperwork ready. For just in case.”

“For…” Syd studies his face for a minute, then shakes her head. “No.” 

“Yes. I’m not asking as your friend, I’m telling you as your client. I want everything ready, everything set up for them, just in case. I need it to be easy on them, if that’s what they decide. I don’t want to hurt them more than I already did.”

“Which is why I’m telling you no. Don’t take away their agency and their ability to make decisions for themselves, Finn. You may be my client, but they retained me years ago too, for fifty cents each. Concentrate on the work you have to do in here. Then we’ll worry about there. _That_ is your best friend speaking.” 

“Syd,” Finn says, then stops himself. “Ok. If that’s what you think needs to happen, that’s what we’ll do. For _now_.”

“Good.” Syd stands up and then leans over, giving Finn a hug. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Take care of them,” Finn whispers into her ear as he hugs her. Syd nods once and then leaves, stopping to whisper something to Paulo before continuing.

“Got the rest of your intake paperwork for you, Mr. Hudson-Hummel,” Paulo say, entering the room with a clipboard, which he sets down on the table in front of Finn’s seat. “If you have any questions, I’ll be right down here.” He returns to the seat at the end of the table, turning his face away from Finn. 

Most of the intake paperwork isn’t that different from any of the dozens of forms Finn has filled out on behalf of himself or the children. He marks the right bubbles for family medical history and puts down the dates of his shoulder surgeries, notes his vaccination records to the best of his ability, nothing too unusual. 

The last form, though, is labeled ‘Client Profile’, with a brief header explaining that the information—confidential like all his other medical records, of course—allows the staff therapists to provide better integrated therapy for clients and their families. Finn writes ‘Noah Hudson-Hummel’ and ‘Kurt Hudson-Hummel’ in the space for ‘partner(s)’, puts down all five of the kids under ‘children’, then pauses for a moment when he reaches ‘sexual orientation’. Sure, he can still admire an attractive woman when he sees one, and he’s never expressed anything out loud since Noah gave him the letter P so long ago, but none of that communicates the reality of Finn’s life for the past twenty-some-odd years. 

The reality is that there had never been room for anyone else from the moment Kurt and Noah decided to take care of Finn. Girls Finn dated, Rachel, were all just performances he’d put on for an audience. The size of that audience changed, but the performance was the same. In the end, it was only ever Noah and Kurt. He writes down ‘gay’ and continues down the page without a backwards glance. Even knowing there’s a good chance he won’t be going home to stay after this, that’s not a statement he regrets making. 

Once Finn finishes all the forms, he slides the clipboard down to Paulo, who nods at him. “Ready to go meet your counselor, boss?” Paulo asks.

“Ready as I’m going to be,” Finn says.

 

Kurt wakes up, and all he notices at first is pain. His elbow is aching, and as he assimilates that information, he cracks open his eyes. The sun tells him it’s late morning, and he realizes not only is he in pain, he has on some kind of sling. The sling helps him remember being in a hospital, vaguely, but he doesn’t remember how he got home from the hospital, much less up the stairs. No one is in the room with him, and Kurt groans as he slowly manages to sit up.

Neither Finn nor Noah are in the bed, and he doesn’t hear either of them moving around. He doesn’t hear anything, in fact, which makes him think it’s either later than he thinks, the door is closed to the stairs, or both. Kurt swings his legs off the bed as more of the night before rushes back to his brain. 

“Finn,” he murmurs to himself, slowly standing up. He finally glances at the time, realizing that the kids are gone, at school, and he walks towards the stairs. He stops before opening the door, staring at the note on it.

_K—_

_Not planning to say anything to the kids yet. We can figure it out while they’re at school. Your meds and some water are in the bathroom, let me know when you’re up and I’ll bring breakfast._

_N_

There’s no mention of Finn, and Kurt frowns, feeling even more confused, but he detours to the bathroom, taking one pill as instructed and then finishing the water bottle. He finds his phone in the bedroom and sends a quick message to Noah that he’s awake, and within five minutes, he can hear Noah’s footsteps on the stairs. 

“Morning,” Noah says as the door opens. “Kids’re at school, Safiya’s already got Fiver. How’s your arm?” 

“It hurts,” Kurt says, knowing he sounds confused. 

“Yeah,” Noah says softly, setting down the tray in his hands and then sitting beside Kurt and taking Kurt’s face in his hands. “I know, blue eyes.” He kisses Kurt’s nose and then his lips before straightening. “You took your meds?”

“Yes.” Kurt frowns. “I’m… where’s Finn?”

Noah sighs and doesn’t answer at first. He leans over and picks up Kurt’s mug, handing it to him before picking up the plate and a fork. He cuts off a piece of sausage, which confuses Kurt until he remembers that his only good hand is holding his coffee. Noah still doesn’t say anything until after the bite of sausage is in Kurt’s mouth and Kurt is chewing. 

“He’s… not gone. But he’s not here. He went and checked in to some kind of place. Treatment, I mean. Syd knows where he is. I mean, we could figure it out, but…” Noah trails off. “Today, your job is to rest, and maybe help me figure out what to tell the kids. Tomorrow, we’ve got a few appointments.” 

“What are they?” Kurt asks quietly when he finishes eating. He wants to scream or cry, but he just feels numb. 

“Michelle, a follow-up for your arm, and I’m supposed to show my face at the psychiatrist’s office to justify the drugs that were already called in,” Noah says, and Kurt nods, because Noah does seem almost too calm and too detached. 

“Okay. The kids didn’t notice anything this morning?” 

Noah shakes his head. “It’s not that weird for just one of us to be up in the morning. It’s not a Tuesday, but it’s still not that odd. Harv asked if you two were still sleeping. I nodded.” 

“Let’s just figure it out now,” Kurt says before he takes a sip of his coffee. “Then if I react to my meds or something, we’ve taken care of it.” That way, he can let himself fall back into oblivion, and he knows that’s a little unfair, that Noah doesn’t have that option, but Kurt’s in too much pain, mental and physical. 

“Okay.” Noah cuts another piece of food and offers it to Kurt. “Fiver, we’ll just have to put her off if she asks. The others are old enough not to say anything to anyone else. I was thinking we tell them that if anyone asks, Finn’s been really busy with a new book idea? We’ll tell them he had to go somewhere…” Noah trails off again, his face screwing up like he’s in as much pain as Kurt is, and Kurt nods a little. 

He can’t imagine what Noah’s going through, holding all of them together, just like he’s sure Noah can’t imagine what Kurt himself is going through, but it doesn’t look any easier, just different. “Research?” 

“Everyone but Nova and Fiver would realize he could call, and Nova probably would. We don’t know how long or what level of contact,” Noah says, and it’s a measure of how well the medications are working that Kurt only realizes at that moment just how much medication Noah must be on, to sound so calm about Finn being gone with the possibility of no contact. 

Kurt nods, biting back the urge to cry, because he doesn’t know how they got to this morning. Twenty-four hours earlier, eighteen hours earlier, none of this would have seemed possible. “That’s true,” he finally whispers. “So what do we tell them?” 

Noah’s eyes close for a moment, and Kurt thinks that this is the first time he’s really seen Noah look older. There’s still no grey in his hair, and Kurt has to privately concede that Noah has the fewest lines on his face, but the expression – it’s tired and a little bit old. 

“He’s sick,” Noah finally says. “We’ll tell them that he’s sick, and it’s not anything life-threatening, but he can’t stay at home while he’s being treated, and we don’t want other people to worry about him. Eliza and the Peas will probably think it’s something contagious. Airborne.” He opens his eyes and shakes his head, drawing his mouth into a thin line. “It’s not even really a lie.” 

 

By the end of Finn’s first session with Dale, the counselor assigned to him, the nausea has crept back in and his hands have started to shake. The sweats hit about halfway through the group session, and by the time that’s wrapping up, Finn’s heart is hammering, he’s dizzy, and all he wants to do is lie down, even if it’s back in the bare suicide-watch room. Paulo meets him outside the meeting room, looking at him critically.

“You don’t look like you feel so great, boss,” Paulo says. 

“Is there a place here I can smoke?” Finn asks. “If— shit. I have no idea if my cigarettes came with me or not.”

“We can check with Rishawna or Dorothy. They can check your personal items inventory,” Paulo says. “And yeah, third floor balcony’s for smoking, though we like to encourage our guests to look at this as an opportunity to address that, too.”

“Thanks, but pass,” Finn says.

“It’s up to you. Let’s go check in with the desk. I think Dale had some ’scrips for you, anyway.”

Finn nods weakly, because any rapid motion at this point is just making him more nauseated. He follows Paulo to the elevator, and they ride down one level before exiting to the right. The downstairs level is a little fancier and less soothing than the floor Finn had been on before. He stops to lean against one of the marble wall tiles, taking deep breaths and trying to will himself not to puke again. 

“You hanging in there?” Paulo asks.

“Yeah. Not feeling so great.”

“They’ve probably got anti-nausea meds for you. That’s pretty typical for the first few days,” Paulo says. “We’re almost there, if you’re good to go?”

Finn nods, and they proceed down the hall, stopping at a long desk with three women seated behind it, one of whom is Rishawna. She smiles at Finn and asks, “How are you feeling, Mr. Hudson-Hummel?” 

Finn tries to smile back, but that doesn’t seem to be compatible with trying not to puke, so he keeps his focus on the not puking while Paulo leans over the desk and says something to the woman sitting next to Rishawna. The woman nods, then stands up and walks through the door behind the desk, returning after a few minutes with a tray containing a small cup with pills in it, a larger plastic cup with water, and a pack of cigarettes. 

“Take these, and then Paulo will take you up to the third floor,” the woman says, “though I would like to encourage you to take this opportunity to quit smoking as well. We have an excellent additional session we can—”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Finn interrupts, picking up the cup of pills. “What are all of these?”

“There’s an anti-emetic, a mild sedative, and an oral version of the medication you were given via IV last night to help manage withdrawal symptoms, which as I’m sure Dale mentioned, should begin tapering off within three to five days. The blue one is omnifexerine, the antidepressant that Dale discussed with you. I have pamphlets on all four medications, if you’re interested. The rest are your regular supplements from home, as provided by your lawyer.”

Finn nods. “Don’t need the pamphlets,” he says, picking up the pills and downing them with the water. Washing down a handful of pills isn’t exactly a new hangover experience for him. 

“You good to head up to the third floor, boss?” Paulo asks.

“I need my lighter,” Finn says.

“Sorry, boss. No can do,” Paulo says. “I’ll light it for you when we’re up there.”

“Right,” Finn sighs, because of course they don’t let someone on suicide watch carry a lighter. He thanks the woman at the desk, and then he follows Paulo back to the elevator. He waits until the doors close to ask, “How long do people usually stay here? Dale wouldn’t give me a straight answer. He said to focus on the process, not the time frame, which makes me think this isn’t a straight up thirty day or ninety day place.”

“The typical program is six weeks, but there’s also a twelve-weeker, if you need more time,” Paulo explains. “For most people, it’s six, though.”

Six weeks. Forty-two days, or forty-one, if today counts, at a minimum, and there’s a chance it could be twice that. That’s a long time for all of them—Finn, Kurt and Noah, the kids—to be in limbo, not that it’s anybody’s fault but Finn’s. Finn’s the one who failed, who got too shitfaced to follow one of his own most basic rules: do what Kurt says. Finn’s the one who injured Kurt. Finn’s the drunk. He deserves anything they throw at him, but that doesn’t mean he’s ready for it. Limbo is preferable to it ending.

“You still with me, boss?” Paulo asks, as the elevator stops at the third floor, doors opening.

“Yeah. It’s just a long time, six weeks.” They start down the hall, towards the balcony, where pale February sunlight shines through the glass windows in a pair of French doors. The balcony is empty and the air is colder than Finn expected it to be, which takes the edge off the nausea again, at least. He sticks a cigarette between his lips and leans forward for Paulo to light it. 

“It’ll go faster than you think,” Paulo says. 

Finn nods, the hand holding the cigarette shaking as he lowers it. “Hopefully not too fast.”

 

“I’d say it’s good to see you again,” Michelle starts, “but clearly not all is well.” 

“No,” Noah agrees as he and Kurt sit down. It’s only been two days, and everything they do feels awkward, like a three-legged table trying to prop itself against a wall after one leg falls off. “It’s not.” 

Michelle gestures to Kurt’s arm in the sling, and between the two of them, they tell most of the story, glossing over some parts, which Noah appreciates; there are some things he doesn’t want to relive, and other things he doesn’t want to ever know the details of. 

“I do need to ask,” Michelle says, and she frowns, “because it seems unusual. You used a safe word, and Finn was under the influence of alcohol enough to ignore it?” 

Noah’s wondered about that, too, and when he looks at Kurt, Kurt is turning red. “Well, not exactly.” 

“You _didn’t_ use your safe word?” Michelle asks, and Kurt gets even redder. 

“We don’t have one.” 

“What?” Noah asks, feeling his eyes widen. “You didn’t set one? You change them each time?”

“No,” Kurt says, then mumbles something else. Noah looks at Michelle to see if she understood it, and she shakes her head. 

“Can you repeat that, Kurt?” she asks. 

“We never have,” Kurt says, his voice still quiet. 

“Oh my god,” Noah says, and if he weren’t sitting down, he would be falling onto his ass. "I— oh fuck."

"Kurt, are you saying you have ignored basic safety rules for years?" Michelle asks slowly, and Noah is suddenly very, very glad that Michelle is there to ask the questions. He can feel himself getting angrier and angrier, at both of them but more so Kurt. Even if Finn had suggested safe words, if Kurt had acted like they didn't need one, Finn wouldn't have pushed it.

"We didn't need one!" Kurt protests.

"Clearly you did!" Noah yells, standing up. "What the fuck, K? Did you get so caught up in our joke that you couldn't be smart about this? I don't care how much you think you didn't need one! You did!" Noah paces the room almost without thinking about it, gesturing as he talks.

He recognizes the look on Kurt's face a half a second before Kurt speaks. "Well, now I feel like I'm about to be thrown in a dumpster."

"Oh, _fuck_ you!" Noah screams, more stung than he wants to let on. "Over twenty years and now you bring it up? Even I know that's a hell of a deflection!"

Kurt pulls back, glaring at Noah, and Noah wonders if anyone else but he and Finn would realize just how defensive Kurt is. He would feel like it's a connection still between them, but he's still so angry, so mad at Finn and at Kurt, too, and now himself.

He hadn't ever wanted to know, so he had avoided asking. He could have asked. He could have made sure they had a safe word. He could have made sure the basic safety was there. And he hadn't. He had ignored it all willfully, because it wasn't something he liked to think about, and because when he gets down to it, he still doesn't want Kurt digging too deeply into what Finn and Noah do alone. It had been easier for everyone to leave well enough alone, but now they're all paying.

"Noah, sit down." Michelle's voice is calm somehow, and Noah does sit, still scowling. "Kurt, I do think it sounds very much like you are trying to change the subject." She sighs and rubs her temples. "There are a lot of issues here. Can the two of you come again on Monday, and we'll start with at least one or two of them?"

"Yes," Noah answers before Kurt can protest, if Kurt was going to. He doesn't think any of these discussions—even if he’s not sure what all of them even are—would go well without a third party around; they'll be bad enough with Michelle there. 

 

“Where’s Dad?” Charlie demands. 

“Charlie,” Harvey says, then whispers something else to her that Kurt can’t quite understand. 

“No, that’s bullshit,” Charlie says. “If he was that sick, they’d tell us what was wrong with him.”

“Language,” Noah almost snaps at her. “You’re not an adult, no matter how much you think you are, Char.” 

“I’m not _stupid_. I know you’re lying to us!” Charlie says, stomping her foot.

“Don’t snap at her!” Kurt says to Noah, then looks back at Charlie. “We’re not lying, Charlie. He is sick.” 

“When are we going to the hospital, then?” Charlie asks. “What’s he sick with? Why won’t you tell us?”

“We can’t visit,” Kurt says as calmly as he can. 

“Maybe it’s one of those weird ones from the airports,” Harvey says. “You know Dad would want to see us if he could.” 

“If it’s just some airport thing, why won’t they tell us what it’s called, huh?” Charlie says, scowling at Kurt. “I _want_ to see Dad. I want to see him _now_.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Noah says. 

“No, it’s not,” Kurt says, doing his best to present a somewhat unified front. “We’d— everyone would like to see him, Charlie.” Maybe that’s not true, because Kurt doesn’t know how Noah feels about seeing Finn. Kurt still feels confused and like he’s missing something, but he wouldn’t _not_ see Finn. 

“No!” Charlie yells, stomping her foot again. “I want to see him. I want to talk to him. What hospital’s he at? I’ll make Aunt Hannah take me!”

“Aunt Hannah will not be taking you,” Noah says, too firmly in Kurt’s opinion, “and you’re not going to ask her.”

“Yes I am! You can’t stop me! And if she won’t take me, I’ll go by myself!”

“Oh, we can stop you,” Noah says, and Kurt sighs and shakes his head. 

“Charlie, you cannot go traipsing about New York City, and your dad is not allowed to have visitors. I—we—understand that you’re upset, but it’s simply not an option.” 

“You’re lying,” Charlie shouts at Kurt. “You’re a liar. When people are in hospitals, they can have visitors. We visited Uncle Stevie in the hospital. We visited Nana when they stuck that thing in her heart! I want to talk to Dad. I want to see Dad.” 

“Not all illnesses are the same,” Noah almost barks out. “You need to calm down right now, Char.” 

“ _You_ need to calm down!” Charlie shrieks back at him. Both her fists are balled up, her face is red, and tears have started to roll down her cheeks. 

“Charlie!” Kurt says, moving closer to her and reaching for her. 

“No! Don’t touch me! I hate you!”

“Charlie,” Noah says warningly. 

“You sent my Dad away,” Charlie screams. “That’s why you won’t tell me where he is. You sent him away like you sent Eliza away, and I hate you! I hate you!” She kicks the side table, sending a vase full of flowers crashing to the floor in a spray of water, glass, and smashed flower petals. “I hate you! I hate you!” 

“Go to your room, right now,” Noah says, picking up Fiver as the vase breaks. “Nova, don’t move. Charlotte Rose, _go to your room_. Harv, don’t you dare follow her.” 

“No! You can’t make me! I hate you!” Charlie keeps screaming, both feet stomping and arms flailing in a full-body tantrum. 

Noah exhales loudly and hands Fiver to Kurt before picking Charlie up and carrying her towards the stairs, ignoring her flailing and not even wincing when Charlie’s foot connects with his body repeatedly. He sets her down and points. “Now, Charlie.” 

Charlie stares at Noah, snarling with tears and snot intermingling and running down her face, and Noah continues to point. 

“He probably left because he hates you,” Charlie says, not screaming anymore, but sounding cold and mean. “He hates all of us and he’s probably never coming back.”

This time, Kurt can see Noah flinch, but he keeps pointing and nudges Charlie towards the stair. “Mouth shut and upstairs, Charlotte Rose,” he says coldly. “Try to remember you’re ten years old.” 

Charlie continues to stare coldly at Noah for another few moments, then she turns around and storms up the stairs, each step echoing. 

“Does Dad hate us?” Nova asks quietly.

“No,” Noah says immediately, walking back to her and picking her up. “Your Dad loves you, and all of us. Don’t listen to your sister about this, okay?” He seems to wait for Nova to nod, then puts her down outside the ring of broken glass and water. He turns to Kurt and raises his eyebrows. 

“What?” Kurt asks. 

“Happy?” Noah says, his voice even more cold than it was with Charlie. “You did this.” He takes Fiver from Kurt and turns to Harvey. “Let’s take your little sisters to Zabar’s.” 

Noah doesn’t say anything else while he and the kids bundle up and leave the house, and Kurt stands in the same place for at least fifteen minutes, listening to the occasional loud thump from upstairs. He can’t muster up a response, even long after Noah leaves, other than ‘that’s not fair’. He’s not sure that that’s true, even, and finally he gets a paper bag from the kitchen and starts slowly picking up pieces of the vase with one hand. At least he can’t hurt anyone else while he’s cleaning up. 

 

Noah doesn’t apologize to Kurt when he gets back, like the two of them have some mutual agreement to forget that anything happened or anything was said that afternoon altogether. They bring dinner with them, picked up on the walk back from Zabar’s, and after the five of them eat, Noah makes a plate for Charlie and puts it on a tray, heading up to Charlie’s room. 

He knocks softly, because he’s not going to barge in. “Char,” he says after a moment. “I’m leaving your food out here. It’s Indian and there’s extra naan.” He doesn’t hear anything, so he carefully sets the tray on the floor and then heads back downstairs. 

Noah doesn’t wait on the stairs to listen for Char opening the door to get the food. She’s too smart for that, for starters, and instead he audibly closes the door to the staircase before going back downstairs. When he takes Fiver upstairs to get ready for bed, the tray isn’t in the hall. 

They have Harv sleep in Nova’s room, at least for one night, and after Fiver and Nova are sleeping and Harv is quiet, Noah goes to Char’s door. He knocks once before starting to open the door. “Char, I’m just getting—”

He stops mid-sentence at the sight of her clearly exhausted body sprawled across her bed, half of her possessions tossed around the room. Noah notes that nothing of Harvey’s is even an inch out of place, and he steps inside, turning on one of the lamps before cutting off the overhead light. 

“Oh, baby girl,” he whispers, carefully picking her up and settling himself on her bed. He holds her in his arms like he did when she was still a baby, and brushes her hair away from her face. “Your dad loves you, Char. I promise. He’ll come back. He loves you so much. Just like I do. Just like your daddy does. We love you. I know it hurts. It hurts so much.” 

Char’s breathing doesn’t change, and Noah leans forward just enough to kiss her forehead before rearranging her gangly legs and arms as he leans against the wall. As time passes, Noah starts to doze, and he opens his eyes slightly as Kurt opens the door. 

“I’ll take the dishes,” Kurt whispers. “Should I turn the lamp off?” 

Noah shakes his head after a minute’s thought. He can manage to doze with it on. Kurt nods and mouths ‘good night’ before closing the door behind him, and Noah lets himself fall back asleep, still carefully cradling Char. 

He wakes up three times during the night, and Char is mumbling in her sleep two of those times. Noah smooths her hair and tries not to laugh at the statement “but tigers don’t eat tacos, they only want rice.” The second time, Noah can’t make out all of the words, but one of them is definitely “Dad,” and Noah sighs, holding her a little more tightly. 

The fourth time that Noah wakes up, it’s light outside, and when he looks down at Char, her eyes are squinting, like she’s just woken up and her eyes are trying to adjust, too. “Good morning, baby girl,” he says softly. 

“Hi Papa,” Charlie says, then her lower lip starts to quiver and tears spill from her eyes. She wraps her arms around Noah’s waist and presses her face against his shirt. “I want Harvey. I want Harvey.”

“Some things never change, Char,” Noah says as lightly as he can. “He slept in Nova’s room last night. Want me to go see if he’s up, or do you want to go?” 

Charlie shakes her head. “You, please.”

“Okay.” Noah gives her a final squeeze before carefully sliding her onto the mattress. “I love you, Charlie-girl.” 

“I love you, too, Papa. I just want Dad to come home.”

“I know.” Noah quietly leaves the room and walks towards Nova’s. “Me too,” he says to himself, just before opening the door and gesturing to Harvey, who jumps up and goes down the hall before Noah can say a word. Noah watches long enough to see the two of them holding each other, then turns back to Nova, who is yawning and stretching. 

“Come on, Nova. Let’s go get some doughnuts before Fiver wakes up.”

 

While Noah and Nova are getting doughnuts, Kurt hears the sound of a key in the lock, and Eliza walks into the kitchen a minute later. “Hi, Daddy,” she says, starting to give him a hug and then stopping. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

“I’ll be fine in another week or so,” Kurt assures her. “It’s just a dislocated elbow. The sling’s merely a precaution.” 

“Does it hurt?” Eliza makes a face. “It looks like it’d be sweaty.” 

“A little bit,” Kurt admits. “How was the rest of your week?” 

“Boring.” Eliza sighs and pours herself a cup of coffee. “And I hate Mom’s temple.” She frowns, looking around. “Where is everyone?” 

“The Peas are upstairs, and Fiver was still asleep as of ten minutes ago,” Kurt says. 

“Did Nova go with Papa to get doughnuts?” Eliza guesses, and Kurt nods. “And Dad’s still in the shower?” 

Kurt winces, and before he can figure out how exactly to tell Eliza and then proceed to lie to her, too, he hears Noah and Nova coming back. “Doughnuts!” Noah calls. 

“Hey!” Eliza says, setting down her coffee and going into the dining room. Kurt follows and watches her hugging Nova, who grins at Eliza and then runs upstairs, yelling for the Peas and Fiver. Then Eliza turns to Noah and gives him a hug. “Hi, Papa!” 

“Hey, sweet potato,” Noah says, and Kurt winces at the wariness in Noah’s voice. “Did you just get here?” 

“Just long enough to pour my coffee,” Eliza says. “I haven’t even seen Dad yet.” 

“Oh.” Noah sets down the doughnuts. “You… He’s not here.”

“Is he still on his run or something?” Eliza asks, opening the top box and pulling out one doughnut. 

“No, sweet potato. He’s not here,” Noah says, and Kurt can tell that their carefully prepared lie doesn’t sound at all believable when their fourteen year old is standing in front of them. “He’s—” Noah breaks off, and Kurt doesn’t know how to continue the sentence, either. “He’s sick.” 

“No he’s not,” Eliza immediately counters. “That’s what you told them, isn’t it?” she asks, gesturing up the stairs. “But he’s not sick, or you’d look worried instead of this.” 

Noah looks away from Eliza and takes a doughnut for himself. “He’ll be back,” he says. “That’s the important part.” 

“Papa!” Eliza glares at the doughnut in Noah’s hand. “Where is Dad?”

“He’s not here, but he’ll be back, and he’s not mad at any of us,” Noah says, sounding like he’s reciting words on a screen. 

“Where is he? Daddy? Where is he?” Eliza demands, turning to look at Kurt again. “Why isn’t he here? Why didn’t he call?” 

“There wasn’t a chance,” Kurt says before he can catch himself, and he watches Noah’s eyes widen. 

“What happened?” Eliza yells, and Noah pulls her into another hug at that, shushing her. 

“We have to tell her,” Kurt says, and Noah nods. 

“Tell me what.” 

“He’s at a rehab facility,” Noah says very quietly. “He checked himself in Wednesday night.” 

“Wednesday night? Why?” Eliza says, and Kurt can see tears starting to run down her face. “Rehab like for drinking?” She pulls away from Noah and wheels towards Kurt, and now it’s her turn to have her eyes widen. “No. No no no. _No_.” 

“It’s okay, sweet potato,” Kurt says as she starts to cry on Noah’s chest. “It’s okay.” He doesn’t know how effective it sounds, since he isn’t sure he believes it, and he’s still on pain medications. 

“He wasn’t drinking that much,” Eliza says. “I don’t understand.” 

“He was more than even we realized, I think,” Noah says to her. 

“But, why would…” Eliza trails off and starts crying harder. 

Kurt frowns, confused, and Noah shrugs a little, carefully maneuvering Eliza into a chair. Kurt brings her coffee to the table and then sits on her other side. 

“It’s my fault,” Kurt finally makes out Eliza saying. “It’s my fault.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Noah says. “Don’t say that. Don’t think that.” 

“Papa’s right. It’s not your fault,” Kurt says, rubbing his hand over her shoulder. Eliza doesn’t respond, just keeps crying, right up until the moment they all hear feet pounding down the stairs. 

Eliza straightens, wipes her eyes, and turns towards the stairs just as Nova and Fiver pop through, neither of them noticing the tear tracks on Eliza’s face. 

 

The third morning Finn wakes up in rehab, the first after moving to a private room, he forces himself to get up and put on sweats, a t-shirt, and his newly reacquired running shoes. He swings by the fourth floor desk to get his pills, because while the nausea’s gotten a little better, the shaking had turned into a full-blown tremor by the day before. He can’t tell if the antidepressant is doing anything yet, but then, he doesn’t really feel depressed, just hollow and guilty.

The gym is on the same floor as the smoking balcony, so Finn is already well acquainted with the long blue hallway and the black and white photographs of flowers hanging on the walls. He starts off at a low speed on the treadmill, going at a light jog until he feels warmed up, then he cranks up the speed. He makes it about twenty minutes into the run before he has to stop to catch his breath and fight the urge to puke up his pills, but after drinking a bottle of water, he gets right back on the treadmill and runs for another twenty minutes. 

After the second twenty minutes, he does vomit into the trashcan, which means he’ll need to go back to the desk and see if he needs to take any of the pills over again, though it doesn’t _look_ like he puked them up. He can take a shower first, though, so he drinks another bottle of water and rides the elevator back down to his room. His legs feel pleasantly sore, and while the run didn’t stop the tremor, Finn feels like his heart rate might be a little closer to normal. 

Finn showers, makes the decision not to shave off his three-day-stubble even though he’s allowed to have a razor now, gets dressed, and goes to the desk to ask Priya about the pills. After assuring him that no, he shouldn’t need to take them again, unless he’s noting an increase in nausea, tremors, or other withdrawal symptoms, Priya hands him two envelopes.

“These came for you via courier,” she says. Finn gives her a wan smile in response, then takes the letters back to his room. 

Finn sits on the bed, staring at the two envelopes, both labeled ‘Finn Hudson-Hummel’, one in Noah’s writing and the other in Kurt’s. He turns them over in his hand, feels their weight, but he doesn’t open them. He know what the letters probably say, and he knows he’s being selfish, something he has no right to be at the moment, but he can’t make himself open them and see it written down in their handwriting. He’s not ready. Not yet. 

 

One week and two days since, one week and two days into however long Finn’s going to be _gone_ , and they’re back in Michelle’s office for the third time. They’re back in Michelle’s office, and Noah has his arms crossed, side-eyeing Kurt, because he’s not ready for another round of how _no one_ is to blame, and surely Finn will be home soon because he doesn’t _need_ treatment, and fine, if it makes _Noah_ feel better, Kurt and Finn will discuss safe words. 

It’s the right words, but the tone is wrong, and Noah is reminded of a very few times in their entire lives when they’ve been so on edge. The difference for him is that every other time, he’s had Kurt and Finn, or Kurt alone, but this time, Finn is incommunicado and Kurt is the one making Noah feel this way.

That’s not entirely fair; Noah’s angry with Finn, too, but Kurt’s the one right in front of him, and Finn clearly _knew_ there was a problem. Noah’s not convinced it was the best way to handle it, so abruptly, but Finn still took action, and Noah assumes he’s trying to make things different. 

All Noah has is the studio, soundproofed and protected from the outside world. He doesn’t have Finn. He doesn’t have Kurt. He feels _lost_ , and as much as he’s angry at himself for not listening, for not asking, for not _making sure_ , he can’t help but feel like a victim himself. Two weeks earlier, he would have said he had everything, and not in a gloating way. In an immensely grateful way, that somehow despite every indicator to the contrary, he’d not just survived but thrived. Now he feels like he’s lost almost everything, even if it’s just temporarily. He’s fronting so much for the kids when they’re home, trying not to let on to Fiver at all that anything’s wrong, that when he can, he feels like just collapsing in the studio. 

He’s considering just sleeping in the studio, or at least staying up too late and using that as an excuse to fall onto the guest bedroom’s mattress. He can wake up early enough so that the kids don’t know, and then he can nap more, maybe. Noah’s not quite ready to make it that official that things are that bad – but he’s close. 

Michelle starts with talking about why Finn’s away, putting a name to it that neither Noah nor Kurt has been willing to say out loud – alcoholism. Kurt protests that they have it under control, that he has it under control, but his arm’s still in a sling, and Noah points that out. Kurt looks like he’s considering clawing at Noah, and some small detached part of Noah thinks that they probably look ridiculous, two forty-year-old men who have been together for over twenty-two years, who have been legally married for nineteen years, and they’re squared off in a therapist’s office looking like there’s about to be a catfight. 

All that happens before their appointment is over is that they stop yelling at each other. Noah’s the only one who agrees with Michelle, that they have to face what it is and that it’s one thing Kurt can’t control. Michelle makes another appointment for them for Monday, and they don’t touch as they leave the office. 

They don’t hold hands as they wait for a taxi. Normally they’d take a train, but part of minimizing any comment is making sure Kurt’s sling is noticed by as few people as possible. Once in the taxi, neither of them puts an arm around the other’s shoulders as they ride uptown, and their legs don’t even brush. There’s no conversation except about what time the kids will each be home and what’s on the schedule for the weekend. Noah tentatively brushes his arm against Kurt’s side while they’re cooking, and Kurt shies away. Noah doesn’t know if it was surprise or intentional, but he can’t do it in bed, too, and that night he does stay in the guest room. 

The kids don’t notice. Kurt doesn’t say anything. Noah sleeps there again Saturday night, with the same result. On Sunday night, Noah’s writing his nightly letter to Finn, and all he can manage to get on the page is _Come home. We need you. I’m sorry, I know I’m being selfish. You have to take care of you. I know that. But everything’s falling apart._ Noah locks the door to the guest room and cries himself to sleep. It just keeps getting worse. 

 

Kurt thinks that Friday night is either an accident or just that he slept a lot longer than Noah. The bed beside Kurt is cold when he wakes up, but it’s not early morning either. Kurt doesn’t think about it again until Saturday night, when he goes to bed alone, wakes up at 3 am alone, and wakes up again at 6:30 am alone. Everyone else is asleep, and he carefully walks down the stairs, knowing where he’s likely to find Noah but hoping that one of the kids is sick. The guest room door is closed when Kurt makes it downstairs with no sign of Noah. Kurt cracks the door and fights back a little cry when he does see Noah in the guest room bed, and not just on top of it. He’s under the sheets, his clothes from the day before in the floor, and it’s so clear to Kurt that Noah _intended_ to sleep there. 

They’re breaking, and Kurt knows he can’t put all the blame on either Finn or Noah. Finn’s absence is stressing them, yes, but Noah has legitimate concerns. Kurt doesn’t know how to face those concerns inside himself, much less to Noah’s face, because he knows he _failed_. He’s supposed to be the one making the hard decisions for the three of them. He’s supposed to be in control enough to protect them, and instead he let something insidious come in and tear them apart. He’s forty years old, and on some level, it’s the only failure he can bring to mind, but it’s so big and so horrible, he can’t even look himself in the mirror. How is he supposed to look at Noah? How can he feel justified in taking Noah’s hand or accepting Noah’s comfort? 

Sunday is awful. After the kids are all in bed, Noah goes downstairs to the studio, and after fifteen minutes or so, Kurt sits halfway down the stairs with a mug of tea, waiting. Eventually, the door to the studio opens, and Kurt braces himself for the sounds that follow – the guest room door opening and then closing again, the sound of Noah walking into it in between. Kurt creeps softly towards it in time to hear the door lock, and he sits down beside it, back against the wall. 

Kurt doesn’t hear anything for awhile, and then he hears soft crying. He closes his eyes, wincing, and puts his head in his good hand. He’s failed. He’s failed so badly that Noah is on the other side of a locked door, crying alone, and there’s nothing Kurt can do about it. He’s failed so badly that Finn isn’t home and they don’t know when he will be. He’s failed so badly that they’re having to lie to their friends. He’s failed so very badly, because they are lying to their kids, too. 

Eventually, Kurt doesn’t hear any more crying, and he slowly and silently walks up the stairs to the top floor, lying down in a far-too-big bed and tossing and turning most of the night. It’s not because of his arm, though, not this time, and he wakes up for the day far too early. 

 

Finn’s days pass in a predictable monotony, which makes some things easier, and other things harder. There’s a degree of safety in repetition, because he knows what to expect, with few surprises or stressors outside of his counseling sessions. Every day is the same: seven o’ clock wake up, run on the treadmill, pills, smoke break, shower, morning session with Dale, morning group session, breakfast, weights and a second run, smoke break, another shower, afternoon session, afternoon group, free time that Finn uses for reading or writing, dinner, evening group, a third run, a final smoke break, yet another shower, then bed. Lather, rinse, repeat. Now that he’s decided to stick with the rehab beard, he doesn’t even have a daily shave to differentiate the first shower from the later ones. 

The one big downside of the predictability is probably partially by design, which is that he has plenty of time to think and mull things over in his head ad nauseum, but not enough privacy or freedom to curl up in a ball and check out or to beat himself up over it all. Every block of thinking time is followed by a session with Dale or with one of the groups, which means there’s an expectation that Finn will talk about the stuff he’s been mentally processing. 

Finn talks about life with Noah and Kurt, and how long it took for him to get his shit together and come home – he doesn’t tack on 'the first time', but he thinks it. He talks about the kids, about Rachel manipulating Eliza, about Hannah and Audrey and the babies. He talks about his mom. Mostly, Finn talks about the guilt, which colors everything, which tells him he should have been better, tried harder, been more perfect. 

As a therapist himself, Finn can recognize that he’s making progress in many areas. He can also acknowledge that he would tell any of his client that no one expects them to be perfect, and that perfection is impossible to achieve, not something they should punish themselves for not attaining. Knowing that intellectually and professionally doesn’t change the fact that he really does still expect himself to be perfect. He has always had someone counting on him, relying on him to take care of things, watching him and judging his actions, and he has to be better for them. They need him to be _perfect_ , and he can’t be, and he doesn’t know how to get past that.

He still can’t make himself read their letters, which now come either one or three at a time and get stuffed into the bottom drawer of his bedside table, along with all the previous letters. He still doesn’t know how he’s going to keep it together without them when he gets out of here. 

 

By the time they get to Michelle’s office midday on Monday, Noah isn’t sure if Kurt’s as much as looked directly at him all day. He knows they haven’t touched, even accidentally, and he arranges his arms so hopefully they look like he’s crossing them, not hugging himself. No one says anything as they sit down, not even Michelle, and at least two or three minutes pass before Michelle clears her throat. 

“I thought today I’d see where the conversation took us. Does either of you have something to start with?” 

Noah shakes his head; he doesn’t see the point. Where can he even start? Kurt doesn’t speak, either, at least not at first, but after a very uncomfortable thirty seconds or so, Kurt does start talking. 

“Noah slept downstairs all weekend.” 

For a moment, Noah can feel himself get defensive. He even starts to open his mouth, but he glances at Michelle for a moment, and she has one finger barely up, her head tilted towards Kurt. Noah stops, takes a deep breath, and realizes that for the first time, Kurt doesn’t sound defensive or accusatory. He just sounds like Noah feels: broken. 

“I didn’t think you noticed,” is what Noah finally says sadly, long after Michelle’s finger goes back down on the desk. 

“Oh, god,” Kurt says, and Noah glances at him, taking in the slump of Kurt’s shoulders and the hands over his face. “Oh, god, Noah. Of course I noticed.” 

“You don’t even want me to touch you when we’re fully clothed and in front of the kids, K.” The nickname slips out before Noah can catch it. “Why would you want me in bed next to you?” 

“Oh, god, no, that’s not—” Kurt breaks off, and Noah can see a few tears leaking out behind Kurt’s hands. Noah realizes a second later that he has tears on his own cheeks, too. “I failed. I failed, and why would I expect anything to be even close to normal?”

“So you’re just going to make things _worse_?” Noah shakes his head. “You know, there were times that we couldn’t sleep.” It’s been so many years, but Noah remembers. Whatever else has happened, at the end of the day, Kurt’s been there to curl around and into, even before they got to New York. 

“What do the two of you do together?” Michelle suddenly interrupts. 

“Pretty much everything,” Noah says almost wryly. “We work together, remember?” 

“But what do the two of you _do_ together? I keep notes. Noah, you and Finn go to baseball and other games together. Kurt, you and Finn go to plays together. That’s just a sampling. What do the two of you do that isn’t work?” 

Noah can feel himself making a face. “We’re together most of the day. Musicals, sometimes, too.” 

“And that’s not work-related?” Michelle looks skeptical. 

“Noah’s right. We’re together most of the day, every day. Tuesday’s the only day we’re not at work, really.” 

“And maybe it was important for awhile for the triad and two of the couples within it to take precedence, but working together isn’t spending time together as a couple for pleasure.” Michelle shakes her head. “The three of you have been together for a long time. Finn has been living with the two of you for close to ten years now. What might have been necessary for a few years is now somewhat dysfunctional, perhaps?” She stands, and Noah realizes that they’ve been there for a full hour. “I’ll see you Friday.” 

Noah feels like he’s still on autopilot as he and Kurt leave the office, but after the door closes behind them, Kurt’s hand brushes against his, and Noah takes it, squeezing it once before dropping it and putting his arm around Kurt’s shoulders. 

“We have to fix this,” he says softly, not looking at Kurt. 

“I know.” Kurt exhales and relaxes against Noah for the first time in what feels like months, even though it’s not even been two weeks. Maybe it’s the first time in months it’s been intentional and not habitual. “We will.” 

“A few tears and a walk through the Park won’t do it,” Noah cautions. 

“No.” Kurt falls silent again as they walk to the corner, waiting for the taxi they’ve ordered, and Noah leans against a lamppost. Kurt steps close, a hint of a smile on his face, and for a few seconds, Noah feels like they’re twenty or so again, about to make a scene. They don’t make a scene, really, but Kurt does lean down and start kissing Noah. 

They keep kissing, right there waiting on the taxi, even though they really are twenty years too old to make _this_ kind of scene in _this_ kind of place, and after a few moments, Noah slides his hands down to Kurt’s ass, squeezing it and making Kurt jump. 

Maybe it’s the wrong approach, Noah thinks as they straighten and get in the taxi, and this time, Kurt slides close, almost perching on Noah’s lap. Physicality isn’t the only way to connect, but it’s always been one of theirs. At the very least, it can’t hurt. 

 

After dinner, after the kids are in bed, even Fiver, Kurt pauses at the top of the stairs. “I know why, and I understand, but maybe I could sit in the studio tonight?” 

Noah nods, and it’s not quite a smile, but it’s close enough that Kurt lets Noah take his hand. It feels better than Kurt thinks he has a right to feel, but he doesn’t let go, not until they’re in the studio. Kurt grabs one of the chairs and starts reading, half-listening to Noah alternating between guitar and piano. Kurt finds his solace in words; Noah finds his in the music. 

Kurt loses track of time before he registers the silence of Noah putting things away and standing up. “I’ve been writing letters,” he says softly. “I know he may not be reading them, and he’s definitely not responding, but— maybe we should write him together.” 

“I have too,” Kurt admits, taking Noah’s offered hand and then pulling him close. “I think that’s a good idea.” Kurt runs his hand down Noah’s back and closes his eyes. Maybe they had been on autopilot. Not just Noah and Kurt, but Finn too, and despite what Michelle had said, Kurt isn’t sure when he and Finn last went to a play. He’s not sure when the last game Noah and Finn attended was. As easy as it’s been to be on autopilot, they can’t, because it’s not good enough. 

“I have… a weird idea,” Noah says slowly when they stop on the main floor to get paper and two pens. “Maybe it’s something we should have done years ago.”

Kurt frowns. “What do you mean?” 

“We’ve always stayed upstairs. You and Finn, me and Finn, there’s his bedroom. Not _always_ , but it’s been there. Somehow, if it was just you and me or if it was all three of us, it was supposed to be the same room. The same bed.”

“You think we shouldn’t stay upstairs?” Kurt asks, feeling confused. 

“I think that we both know things have to change, and I think that we both know we have to start setting things up for when he comes home,” Noah says evenly. “And maybe what we need to be doing for however long we have left is spending time upstairs when we’re writing to him or talking about things relating to him, or basic things like getting dressed. But I think maybe for now, we use the guest room. And we figure out if that’s something we can do going forward.” Noah doesn’t stop as they head up the stairs. “Plus… we’ll wake up looking for him less down there.” 

Kurt sighs as they reach the bedroom, and he nods. He knows Noah’s right. He knows they’re heading down a hard path. He still feels like he failed, but Noah hasn’t asked about that. For the moment, he pulls a hardback book out and sets it in the middle of the bed, and Noah puts the paper on top of it, handing one pen to Kurt before starting to write.

_Finn,_

_From now on, you’re getting either one letter or three._

Kurt almost laughs, and Noah looks over with his eyebrow raised and one corner of his mouth twisted up. “It’s true, isn’t it?” 

“It’s true,” Kurt concedes, and he pulls the book a little closer to him. 

_We know we have work to do too, and we’re sorry. We’re so, so sorry. But I think I speak for both of us_

Noah grabs the paper and scratches out _he does_ before pushing it back to Kurt. 

_when I say we’re in. We’re a couple of weeks behind you, but we’re in._

 

“So, Hudson, are we going to sit here staring awkwardly like we did last week?” Syd asks, one eyebrow raised and an almost-amused expression on her face. 

“I don’t have much to say,” Finn says. “Things are pretty boring here.”

“There’s always the weather. At least you don’t have to worry about forgetting to check the forecast before you leave in the morning, and then having the skies dump snow and freezing rain on you when you’re walking back from lunch,” Syd says. 

“I sat out on the smoking balcony and watched that storm,” Finn says. “Glad I wasn’t out in it.”

“Yeah, you should be,” Syd says, almost grumbling. “Do I need to send or bring anything else?” 

“Another couple packs would be good,” Finn says. 

“Anything besides that, I should say.” 

Finn shakes his head. “I’m keeping busy, or as busy as I can, anyway.”

“Paperback or two?” Syd offers. “I have some pretty hot erotica at home that you can borrow.” 

“Yeah, Syd, you know me. I’m all about the lesbian erotica.”

Syd cracks a smile and nods. “Thought you’d jump at that one. I’ve got some thrilling books on constitutional law, too.” 

“Might be good for me to get caught up on that, I guess,” Finn says.

“In that case, I’ll throw in some copyright law, too,” Syd says. “I could probably find some tax law if you have insomnia.” 

“Not sure it’ll help, but sure.”

“Did they forget to issue you a razor? I can bring you some Nair,” Syd offers. 

“And ruin this masterpiece?” Finn asks, running his hand down his cheek. “Never. It’s my new hobby.”

“You couldn’t have taken up bonsai?” 

“Takes way more zen than I’ve got, Syd.”

“So when are you going to let me change the visitation restrictions?” Syd asks, like she has every time she’s visited.

“I’m not,” Finn says, like he’s responded every time she’s asked. “I can’t do that here.”

Syd sighs, looking disappointed. “I really wish you’d at least consider it.” 

“No, Syd. I can’t. It’s hard enough as it is, and at least this way I can still pretend like things’ll maybe work out ok.”

“I’m going to keep asking,” Syd says. 

“I’m just going to keep disappointing you, then,” Finn says. “So let’s change the subject.”

“Well, which is it going to be,” Syd says wryly. “Back to the weather or lesbian erotica?” 

 

Even on the worst days, Kurt has to admit, Noah made sure that Kurt had his meds, that he didn’t have any trouble eating or getting coffee or anything else, and that they kept Kurt’s sling out of the public eye so well that the only people who know Kurt had it are the kids, the two of them, Michelle, and Syd. Noah equally makes sure not to dwell on it with the kids, Kurt notices, even while he keeps Nova and Fiver from jostling it. There were a couple of days in the two weeks where Kurt thought that maybe it was more than he deserved, but most of all, he’s just grateful. 

The uncomfortable mental aspect of a follow-up appointment, to confirm that he can stop wearing the sling, is that it’s exactly two weeks later. It’s exactly two weeks, a few hours short of the moment the ER gave it to him, and only one or two hours short of the last time he saw Finn. The doctor’s clinic is even near the ER, and Kurt isn’t surprised when Noah stops before leaving the house to take a Xanax. 

Kurt isn’t sure how they get escorted back to a room without spending more than two minutes in the waiting room. Usually that’s the kind of thing he would engineer, not Noah, but Noah goes up to the window, signs Kurt in, and then whispers something to the man behind the desk. The man nods, gestures to someone, and a nurse comes to the door, gesturing for them to follow without calling Kurt’s name at all. 

They’ve only had two days since Michelle’s office, two nights with the two of them in the guest room bed, and the silence between them still isn’t as comfortable as it could be, but it isn’t strained. Kurt notes the time, and they still have to wait nearly thirty minutes before a man knocks on the door as he enters. 

“Dr. Re,” he says briskly. “Let’s get that sling off and take a look.” After about ninety seconds of manipulating Kurt’s arm and then asking Kurt to do specific movements, Dr. Re nods, picking up the sling and folding it. “You’re good to go.” 

“Good as new?” Kurt says lightly. 

“You shouldn’t feel any after-effects. If you do, call immediately.” Dr. Re nods again, shakes their hands, and leaves, and Kurt feels almost dizzied by the speed. 

“Do you think he’ll evict us if we take more than forty-five seconds to leave the room?” Noah says with a snort, standing up and opening the door. He waits until they’re outside before his arm goes around Kurt, and Kurt starts to signal for a taxi before realizing he doesn’t have to. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” Kurt says. “I was getting tired of the taxis.” 

“I was definitely tired of the smell of the taxis,” Noah agrees. “One thing down.” 

Kurt sighs. “Still so much to go.” Not just time before Finn gets home, which is undefined, but so much work that needs to be done, between the two of them and between the three of them, but at least Kurt doesn’t feel like he has to stay out of sight anymore. That at least had been one thing he could do for Finn, even if they can’t do very much else yet.

 

Noah nods at Syd and glances towards the door, where the kids will be arriving home soon. “You double-checked? He still can’t have visitors?” 

“No visitors,” Syd says, shaking her head slowly, and Noah exhales, trading a glance with Kurt. 

“It’s been almost three weeks,” Noah says, and he knows he probably sounds a little bit like he’s whining. “Is it just no visitation at all at this place?” 

Even the letters they send every morning, written the night before, go with the courier to Syd first, to get the address. They could ask Syd, and Noah’s pretty sure that Syd would tell them. From there, it’d be easy to find the place themselves, but if visitors aren’t allowed, Noah doesn’t see the point. Knowing the name and the location would make it worse, at least for Noah, and Kurt seems to agree. Knowing their luck, it’s probably within blocks of home; they might even walk past it regularly or semi-regularly. Staring at windows doesn’t help anything. 

“It seems to be,” Syd says, speaking like she’s choosing her words carefully, but Syd’s like that about eighty percent of the time, which Noah figures is just a hazard of being a lawyer. 

“We’ll wait, then,” Kurt says, sounding resigned. “Why don’t you stay for dinner, Syd?” 

Syd looks like she’s about to refuse, but then the door opens and the first feet start pounding in. “Sure,” she says. “As long as I get something other than salad duty.” 

Noah snorts as Nova comes around the corner, giving Kurt and then Noah a hug before running up the stairs. “Sure, Syd,” he agrees. “Anything but salad duty.”

Kurt ends up on salad duty and Noah orders in from one of the delis for soup to go with the sandwiches that Harvey, Syd, and Charlie work on. Hannah would probably be appalled at the soup, salad, and sandwich combination for dinner, but that’s why Hannah’s the chef and not them. 

“Time to eat!” Noah calls as soon as he’s paid for the soup. 

“Syd, sit by me,” Noah can hear Charlie whispering to Syd. 

“I’m sitting closest to the chowder,” Syd replies. “What soup are you having?”

“Chowder if you’ll sit by me,” Charlie says. “You sit on my left, because Harvey sits on my right.”

Noah sighs a little and swallows. The chair to Charlie’s left is Finn’s chair, which has variously been left empty, pushed all the way up to the table, and moved away from the table. He understands why Charlie wants it, but that doesn’t mean that Noah really wants to see it. 

“Oh, we’re going to watch a movie while we eat!” Kurt suddenly says. “That’s why you put the sandwiches on the big tray! It’s a buffet!” Noah is pretty sure that Kurt made that up on the spot, but he doesn’t say a word against it, just nods his agreement.

“Yeah, movie night,” he says. “Nova, I think it’s your turn to pick.” 

“Can we watch _Finding Nemo_?” Nova asks. 

“Sure,” Noah says as he picks up a sandwich. Charlie starts to sniffle, and when Noah looks at her, there are tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“We can’t watch it without Dad. That’s _Dad’s_ movie!” Charlie says. 

“Dad? Dad?” Fiver says, wandering into the foyer. “Dad?” She starts pulling out the bins and peering into them. “Dad? Where you at?”

“I think that’s why Nova wants to watch it,” Noah whispers to Charlie. “We’ll ask her for a second choice, okay?” 

“No! It’s not okay!” Charlie sobs. “Nothing’s okay!”

“I wish Eliza was here,” Nova says sadly. 

“Liza?” Fiver asks, dumping out one of the bins in her search. “Liiiiza? Where you at? Liza? Dad? Where you at!”

“Stop talking!” Charlie says. “Stop it, stop it, stop it!”

“You know better, Nova!” Harvey adds, shaking his finger in a way that Noah’s never been sure where he learned it. 

“Nemo’s my favorite,” Nova says in a little voice. “Because Dad does the whale.”

Charlie puts her hand over her ears, slumping down onto the floor as she keeps repeating, “Stop it! Stop it!” Harvey keeps wagging his finger at Nova without saying anything else. 

“Fiver, what do _you_ want to watch?” Noah asks, feeling a little desperate as he scoops Fiver up from her pursuit of emptying the bins. 

“Happy two!” Fiver declares.

Nova frowns at Fiver. “No, Fiver. That’s not a movie. That’s a home video.”

“Happy two!”

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

“What about…” Kurt says, looking around like he expects the perfect movie to jump out. No movies jump out, but Cleve does saunter across the room. “ _Aristocats_! There are cats in it!”

Nova looks at Harvey like she’s double-checking before she answers. “ _Aristocats_ is good. Isn’t it good, Fiver? Everybody wants to be a cat!”

“Cats!” Fiver says, going dead-weight in Noah’s arms. “Down for cats.”

“Down for cats,” Noah agrees, depositing her on a chair and then putting her plate beside her. 

“It’s _Aristocats_ , Charlie,” Harvey says quietly, bending down to talk to Charlie. Charlie moves her hands away from her ears and stops shouting, then nods and lies down on the floor. When Harvey sits down, she puts her head on his lap. Harvey shakes out a napkin and puts it over her hair, then picks up his sandwich and starts to eat. 

Noah sighs; Harvey will probably manage to get her to eat at least a little bit. 

“Is it always this bad now?” Syd asks Noah and Kurt quietly once the movie starts, and Noah sighs again as Kurt shakes his head. 

Kurt is the one that finally answers her. “This wasn’t that bad.” 

“Uh oh!” Fiver suddenly pipes up. “I pee!”

“Nevermind,” Kurt says with a sigh, and he reaches into the basket beside the couch before handing the paper towels to Noah. 

“I thought she was potty-trained?” Syd says, sounding confused. 

“Yeah,” Noah says as he starts to pull the wet clothes off Fiver. “She was. Now she pees when she gets upset.” 

“Sorry I pee, Papa,” Fiver says.

“It’s okay,” Noah says, tickling her a little. “Even kittens have accidents.” 

“If you’re a good girl, you can sleep with me tonight,” Nova says. 

“Yay! Nova-bed!” Fiver says, clapping her hands. 

“Not yet,” Kurt says. “Eat your dinner, girls.” 

 

“I have a different question for you this week,” Syd announces as soon as she’s sitting across from Finn. 

Finn sighs wearily. “Alright.”

“If you won’t let Noah and Kurt visit, can I at least bring one of the kids with me next time? Charlie or Fiver?” 

“Why Charlie or Fiver specifically?” Finn asks.

“I ate dinner at your house last night. I have eyes. I’d bring all of them if you’d let me, but I assumed that was a no, so I narrowed it down to who needs it the most right now,” Syd says. 

Finn sighs again letting his head drop into his hands. “Shit. They’re not doing well.”

“Not really, no,” Syd says. “You know I’m not going to lie to you.” 

“How bad?”

Syd sighs. “Nova wanted to watch _Finding Nemo_ , which led to Charlie screaming and crying, and Fiver wandering around looking for you. In the bins, I should add, so I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t fit.” 

“Shit.” Finn rubs his temples in small circles. “I thought— I don’t actually know what I thought. I haven’t been thinking about it. Of course they’re not handling it well. I disappeared, Kurt was hurt, and… shit.”

"So, can I?" Syd asks.

“I think it’s better if you don’t,” Finn say. “Charlie won’t be able to keep it a secret, and if you only bring her, and nobody else, that’s not going to help.”

“Then what about Fiver?” Syd says. “She already talks about you and looks for you.”

Finn takes a minute to think about it, and weigh whether it’s better for Fiver to see him and be reminded he exists, or if it’s better for her to have the consistency of not seeing him until she can see him regularly. Finally he exhales loudly and says, “Ok, you can bring her.”

Syd nods. “I’ll bring her next time, then. They don’t know I’ve seen you, really. They did ask again if the restrictions had changed yet.” She laughs for a few seconds. “Actually, Noah whined more than asked.”

Finn lets himself feel hopeful for just a moment, but then the moment passes. “Yeah. I’m just not ready, Syd. I can’t do it yet.”

Syd sighs but doesn’t seem surprised. “Any other news you want?”

“How are they?”

“Tired.” Syd looks thoughtful for a moment. “A bit reclusive. As patient as they ever were. Lots of appointments. I heard through the grapevine that no one with the show’s really seen them.”

Finn nods as he takes a deep breath to keep himself calm. “But they’re making it through? They’re going to be ok?” 

“That’s a complex question. I think they’re _committed_ to things being okay, in the long run, but the day to day is difficult,” Syd says. “They turned a corner about ten or twelve days in. Neither one of them will tell me much, just that it was ‘bad’. But right after that would be when your daily letters changed to one or three.” 

“I guess a united front’s a good plan,” Finn says softly.

Syd laughs. “You three are the most dramatic ever. Do _any_ of you realize that it’s not the three of you against the world?” 

Finn shrugs. “It kind of always has been.”

“Well, then I guess it still is,” Syd says as she shakes her head. “Still sure you don’t want me to bring some Nair next time?” 

“My beard is a thing of beauty, Syd,” Finn says, “and a joy forever.”

 

The day after the movie fiasco that Syd witnessed, Kurt and Noah sleep in before Noah goes down to the theatre to check on a few things, and Kurt sits in the studio, listening to a few tracks and trying to force the lyrics to come. His phone rings, and he picks it up with his left hand, scribbling out the six words he’s managed to think of, six words he’ll probably discard within the hour. 

“Hello?” 

“You’ve been dodging my calls, Kurt,” Audrey says. “I’ve left you at least five voicemails.”

“I don’t suppose you’d accept the excuse that your oldest brother is very, very busy?” Kurt tries. 

“I pushed a baby out of my vagina for you. You _will_ take my calls,” Audrey says.

“Audrey!” 

“Why is Finn’s phone turned off?” Audrey demands. “I called it a few times and left messages, but now it just goes straight into voicemail. Kurt, what’s wrong with Finn?”

“Audrey,” Kurt says slowly. “First of all, he’s okay. But he’s going to be out of communication for several more weeks.” 

“Why?”

Kurt exhales at least twice before he speaks. “He’s at a rehab facility.” 

Audrey sighs loudly, then says, “Oh. _Good_. Oh, I’m so glad he’s finally getting some help!”

Kurt would blink at her if she were there, but instead he blinks at the paper in front of him, his jaw hanging open a little. “Audrey— what—”

“Kurt,” Audrey says gently. “I was there at Thanksgiving. I don’t actually have very many memories of Finn where he doesn’t have a drink in his hand. I told Mom once that he smells like eggnog, and she got mad at me. He was still married to _her_ then, of course.”

“They don’t know,” Kurt says quickly. “We don’t— she could take Charlie, if she knew, we think.” 

“Yes, Kurt, because I’m stupid and new, so I’m going to run right out and tell Mom and encourage her to share the news with Rachel Berry,” Audrey says, sighing again. “Honestly.”

“I know,” Kurt concedes. “But you also know she’d try to cause more trouble.” 

“Of course she would, but she’s not going to find out. Is there a story we’re going with?”

“Research sabbatical is what his clients were told, and it works for most people,” Kurt says. “We told the kids that he was sick. Noah insists that’s not really a lie, but it feels like one.” 

“And how are my nieces and nephew handling it?” Audrey asks.

“You just said you weren’t stupid or new,” Kurt says dryly. “Do you need the rundown of dinner last night, or can I just tell you that Nova wanted to watch _Finding Nemo_ and let you fill in the rest for yourself?” 

“Oh no! Oh, Kurt.” Audrey sighs. “What can I do to help?”

“You can still come down those two days of your spring break,” Kurt says. “Other than that, we’re taking it one day at a time.” 

“Let me know if you think of anything at all,” Audrey say. “Can he get calls or letters at the rehab place?”

“No calls or visitors, but letters, yes. Syd has the address. We’ve just been using courier,” Kurt says. 

“I’ll write to him, then. Maybe that’ll be a nice change or something for him.”

“I don’t know if he’s reading them,” Kurt admits. “Don’t be surprised if you don’t get a response, at least.” 

“That’s okay. It’s not about me. It’s about him,” Audrey says. “I’m proud of him for going.”

“I’m sure that would mean a lot to him,” Kurt says softly, resolving to doubly make sure Audrey never really knows what the precipitating event was. “One of us will let you know when he’s home, okay?” 

“Okay. Tell Noah and the kids I love them, and I’ll see all of you soon.”

“I will. Bye, Audrey,” Kurt says, his voice still quiet. He sets his phone back down slowly, closing his eyes. He doesn’t think he’ll get any more work done that afternoon. 

 

Noah doesn’t realize he’s going to do it then, not that night, not even that week, but it’s been over three weeks already, three weeks since Finn has been home. He knows enough to know that what he’s doing has to be done, and he starts in the basement, and maybe he’s the one to do it. He and Kurt are doing better, better in a way that he didn’t anticipate so quickly, but there’s still denial and avoidance of some topics from Kurt. 

Finn doesn’t often use the studio, not the way Kurt and Noah do. But there’s a stash of red wine in one of the cabinets, and it has to go. He packs it up carefully in a box and takes it down to the theatre with him the next day, because the bottles are unopened and he might have a glass there, sometimes. He hasn’t had a glass of wine the entire time Finn has been gone, he doesn’t know when he will, but he might. 

When he gets home the next afternoon, Kurt takes the Peas to their drama class—which all of them agree that the Peas actually don’t need—and Noah goes to Finn’s office, bathroom, and the fourth floor bedroom. All of the bottles he finds on that floor are already open, except for a few; he pours out the open ones and sends the few unopened ones to Mike and Tina without any explanation. They won’t ask for one, either, which is why they’re the perfect people to send them to. That makes him think of Finn’s actual office, which he clears out the next day, and he scours the kids’ floor, just in case, the following day. 

When Noah gets back to his project, it’s been four weeks, and he heads back upstairs to the bedroom after Safiya takes the older kids to school and Fiver for a walk. He pours out the scotch that Finn keeps up in their bedroom, and then reaches for the bottle of wine that’s been sitting mostly-full since the night they each had a glass, four weeks and two days earlier.

He pulls out the cork and takes it into the bathroom, watching it gurgle down the drain, and he closes his eyes. “What are you doing?” Kurt asks from behind him. 

“Pouring it out,” Noah says as calmly as he can. 

“I suppose it has been open for some time,” Kurt says, but Noah shakes his head. 

“You know we have to.” 

“Have to?” Kurt’s voice changes, and Noah winces a little at the tone in his voice, because it’s what he’s starting to think of as Kurt’s denial voice. “Don’t overreact.” 

Noah sighs and finishes pouring out the bottle, then turns around. “K, you _know_ we do, and putting it off doesn’t make any sense.” 

“He was fine for years!” Kurt insists. “Moderation works for some people, and there’s no reason that—”

“Yes, there is,” Noah says, interrupting Kurt. “He was fine only because we managed it and policed him, and you know we did. And we’re not going to be the worst kind of jackasses, drinking in front of him.” 

“We could still drink occasionally at home.” 

“No,” Noah says. 

“Baby, there’s no reason we have to give up drinking,” Kurt says, and Noah shakes his head, fighting a smile, since he knows what Kurt’s trying to do. And yeah, it’s good that Kurt feels like he can even try it, but Noah’s not giving in. Not on this.

“Yeah, I know, but we do here at home,” Noah says, and he heads down the stairs with the empty bottles, putting them in the recycling before going to the liquor cabinet. “Put yourself in Finn’s shoes, K. Do you want to come home and see scotch right here?” 

“Fine, no scotch,” Kurt agrees, but after all the scotch is lined up by the sink, Kurt closes the doors on the cabinet. 

“Dammit!” Noah says, exhaling and leaning against the sink, weight on his hands. “We have to get rid of it, K! No more fucking excuses.” 

“Why do you keep blaming him?” 

“I’m not blaming him! If anything, I’m blaming me, and you.” Noah leaves the scotch lined up and goes over to open the cabinet yet again. “How many fucking things did we ignore, in retrospect? Fuck, K, we _knew_ back when he was in Chicago!”

“He was fine. It was under—”

“He wrecked his fucking truck, K. I lied about what was wrong with it and why he bought a new one. I’m about ninety-nine percent sure he wrecked the old one, and I’d bet the deed on this house he was drunk when he did it.” Noah grabs bottles out of the cabinet angrily, and one slips from his arms directly into the sink, crashing and breaking, the liquor and glass splashing against the sides of the sink. He doesn’t stop, just puts the others down and starts methodically pouring them out, two at a time. 

“You lied to me.” Kurt’s voice is flat. “You told me something was wrong with his truck. And now, almost twenty years later, you’re telling me that he was driving drunk. You didn’t think I needed to know that?” 

“No, you didn’t, because there wasn’t any fucking thing you could do about it!” Noah yells. “If we weren’t going to cause some kind of fucking scandal with the NFL, there was nothing! Giving you something else to worry about wasn’t going to help anything!” 

“You should have told me later, then.” 

“K.” Noah sighs and puts the empty bottles down, picking up the next ones. “K, admit it. You would have rationalized it. Up until four weeks ago, you would have. Maybe even two or three weeks ago.” Noah doesn’t wait for an answer, just keeps pouring alcohol out until the smell gets so strong that he turns on the faucet to rinse it out a little. Kurt doesn’t say anything, but after another thirty seconds, he does pick up one of the bottles, adding it to the mess in the sink slowly before throwing the bottle into the sink and watching it shatter. 

Noah doesn’t say anything, but the sink is deep, and he lets the lightest bottle of the bunch crash into the already broken glass. “We need to be careful,” he says a few seconds later. “Not to get cut, I mean.” 

“It _is_ cathartic,” Kurt agrees, and a few more bottles join the broken ones in the sink. Later, Noah will carefully remove the glass and make sure none of the kids can cut themselves on it. Later, Noah will end up scrubbing the sink just in case. For now, he puts the unbroken bottles in the recycling and then looks at Kurt. 

“Upstairs or downstairs?” 

“You’re going to make me do this, aren’t you.” Kurt sighs. “Upstairs.” 

“Okay.” Noah doesn’t say anything else, just walks up the stairs until they’re in the bedroom, and they sit on the bed facing each other. “Now.” 

 

Kurt exhales and knows Noah’s right. He nods, and when the words finally come, they’re soft. 

“Everything else, I’ve taken care of it. Controlled it. I don’t know how to fail, because what have we failed at, really?” he says, forcing himself to make eye contact with Noah. “And I _failed_. Deeply and completely. This shouldn’t have happened. Any of it.”

“We’re good at ignoring what we don’t want to see,” Noah says gently, and a little wryly, too. 

“Yes. If I say it, if I admit it— it’s admitting so much more,” Kurt says, his voice still quiet. “And like I’ve written to Finn, I let him down, and I’m so— I’m so sorry.” Kurt bites back a sob and keeps going. “I let you down, too. I failed both of you, and I could handle it if it were anyone else, but it’s not.” He wipes at his cheeks, tears running down them. “I failed in the worst possible way.” 

Noah doesn’t say anything, watching Kurt instead. His gaze isn’t accusative, just anticipatory, and Kurt breathes deeply before starting to talk again.

“I don’t remember when I realized how much control Finn was willing to give me. It’s been so long ago. I drew myself a few lines. I didn’t want him to come home because I told him to. I needed that to be something he decided, you know?” Kurt waits until he sees Noah’s nod before continuing. “The drinking seemed like everything else. He only got drunk when he was in Chicago without us, or somewhere else without us. If he was with us, it was fine. I could tell him to stop and he would stop. He never drank every day. He never has.” 

Kurt pauses, because he can tell Noah’s gathering his thoughts, and after a minute or two passes, Noah starts talking. “But once he started, we were the only two people who could get him to stop, I think,” he says softly. “I don’t know, because we were never there, but what if… what if everything we dismissed for years was true? If we aren’t there, maybe he really does drink until he passes out.” Noah rubs his hands over his face. “Fuck. I mean, I fucking got him started. Maybe he would have started drinking at Wisconsin, but we don’t know. We treated it like it was no big deal. ‘Let’s get Finn drunk on New Year’s Eve!’ And then we kept having beer with everything. We were too casual about it.” 

“I think about that,” Kurt says equally softly. “I don’t think we would have understood at the time, even if someone had told us what to look for. Both of us could have one beer and stop. We still can. We were casual about it because for us it really was casual.” 

“There are a _lot_ of things we missed at first. And then we ignored.” 

Kurt exhales again, still crying, and nods. “I know. We should have done something. _I_ should have done something.” He closes his eyes, and all of the kids’ faces float into his mind – Charlie’s tantrum, demanding to know where Dad is; Harvey’s quiet sadness; Nova’s pretending that Finn is there, playing with her; Eliza’s shock; Fiver’s continuing search, as if her Dad is just under the couch cushion, and she missed him the other forty times she looked. That compounds it. He didn’t just fail Finn. He didn’t just fail Noah, too. He failed all of them, all of the kids, all the way down to barely-two Fiver, and he doesn’t even try to wipe his eyes. 

“But we didn’t do anything,” Noah says firmly after a few minutes pass, and Kurt opens his eyes. “We didn’t, and we’ll have to deal with that internally for a long time. What’s important now is that _Finn_ did something about it, and we _have_ to not sit here and undermine him. Or us.” Noah shakes his head. “Maybe you could still tell him to stop, K. But expecting him to come back to the same exact bottles and a full liquor cabinet? That’s cruel.” 

“I know.” Kurt covers his face again. Of course he knows that. Trying to act like Finn was somehow superhuman wasn’t about Finn at all, he can acknowledge to himself. It was about saving face, not admitting his own part in it, and discarding all their alcohol had felt like yet another admission of failure. Noah’s reasoning is right, and Kurt knows it. He knew it even as he was protesting, which makes him feel even worse. “I don’t know how to make this right. It’s so big. So many years.” 

“But denial isn’t working. And we want to go forward, right?” Noah says. “It is big. And it was so many years. But just like… sometimes we have to let things go. Apologize. Forgive. Learn from it. Because otherwise it poisons the future.” Noah slowly shakes his head. “All we can do now is learn and go forward.” 

“I _am_ sorry,” Kurt says. “I’m so sorry. I want to reach back and _change_ things.” The what-ifs feel all-consuming. There are so many points that Kurt can identify where if they’d only made little changes, the outcome would be so different. 

“We can’t,” Noah says, and it sounds more gentle than it probably should, Kurt thinks. “Trying to go back in time doesn’t do anything. We apologize to Finn. We apologize to each other. We forgive each other. We stop trying to pretend. And we put in the work, and things _will_ change.” He smirks suddenly. “Changed for the better, and for good.” 

“Noah!” Kurt exclaims, holding back a laugh. “Why are you throwing in _Wicked_ references in a serious conversation?” 

“Because the whole point of having these serious conversations is so we can throw _Wicked_ or whatever references we want to into all our conversations, for years,” Noah says. “And because Sondheim didn’t work there.” 

“Well, that’s true,” Kurt concedes, then does laugh. “This is a ridiculous conversation suddenly.” 

“Yeah.” Noah shrugs. “But you get what I’m saying, right? It all sucks, everything that led up to this. And we need to have those conversations about being sorry, but I think… I think they need to wait for Finn. Even things that we think are just about the two of us, he needs to hear it, too. And you need to hear what I have to tell Finn, and vice versa.” 

Kurt thinks about that for a few moments, then nods. “Okay.” He shakes his head and grins a little. “Finn might get tired of all of our talking.” 

Noah laughs for a brief moment, then gets a little somber, shrugging. “I like to think he’ll just be glad to hear us. Like we will be to hear him.” 

“Yeah,” Kurt says softly. “We will.” 

 

Syd and Fiver have been there for almost forty-five minutes, and in that time, Fiver hasn’t let go of Finn or stopped repeating “Dad, Dad, Dad, my Dad!” Finn has both arms around her while she sits in his lap, unusually still. 

“That’s right, Fiver,” Finn tells her, for at least the twentieth time. “I’m your Dad. You found me.”

“I’ve managed to develop some aunt-instincts after all,” Syd says. “Sorry we were a little late. I didn’t expect two potty stops on the way.” 

“Dad! My Dad!” Fiver says, petting Finn’s new beard. “Scratchy face, Dad.”

Finn smiles. “Yep. Just like _Pat the Bunny_.”

“I know they let you use razors here,” Syd says. “Probably even shaving cream.” 

“Remember, we talked about this. It’s for my safety, and the safety of those around me.”

“And I’m still not buying it,” Syd says with a shrug. “At least shave before you leave.” 

“You don’t think the outside world needs to see this?” Finn asks. Fiver pats his face again, still chattering.

“I am nothing if not honest, Hudson, and I can honestly say: no.” 

“You’re just jealous.”

“That’s it. I’ve always wanted a beard.” Syd grins. “Nah, if I’d ever wanted a beard, it would have been you.” 

“I would’ve made some da—ang fine arm candy,” Finn agrees. 

“I think _I’m_ supposed to be the arm candy in that scenario,” Syd says. 

“No way. If I’m the beard, I’m the arm candy.”

“Not with that facial hair, you’re not.” 

“You hear that, Fiver?” Finn says. “You hear Syd being mean to your Dad?”

“Dad! My Dad. _My_ Dad!”

“It’s not mean when it’s truth,” Syd insists. “And I know, Fiver. Your Dad.” 

“My Dad, my _home_ ,” Fiver says.

“Not yet, High-Fives,” Finn says, pulling Fiver closer. “Dad’s got to stay a little longer.”

“My Dad, my home. _My_ Dad. My _home_ ,” Fiver repeats, pushing against Finn’s chest to get free. “Dad to my _home_ , Dad!”

“I can’t do that yet. It’ll be soon, Fiver, I promise,” Finn says, but Fiver keeps twisting and pushing until she slides off Finn’s lap. She walks to Syd and takes her hand, glaring at Finn. 

“Go us home now, Syd,” Fiver commands, her lower lip sticking out and her eyes filling with tears.

“They’ll kick us out in a few minutes,” Syd says to her, frowning sadly at Finn and then mouthing ‘it’d better be’. 

“Go us home!”

“Syd’ll take you home soon, Fiver. I’m sorry. Dad’s so sorry. I want to come home with you, but it’s not time yet,” Finn says. 

Fiver glares harder at Finn, then announces, “I pee.”

Syd cringes. “Yeah, you did.” 

“Do you need me to get her cleaned up?” Finn asks, but when he put his arms out towards Fiver, she runs behind Syd, leaving a trail of pee on the floor. 

“It’s okay. I have stuff,” Syd says, standing up. “It’s a little bit of a thing. I’ll see you next time.” 

“Ok,” Finn sighs. “Bye, Fiver. I love you.”

Fiver doesn’t even look at Finn as Syd gingerly picks her up and leaves with a last wave. Once they’re gone, Finn goes into the visiting room level bathroom and gets a handful of paper towels, then returns to the visiting room to mop up the pee. It’s hard now to see the visit with Fiver as a positive thing for her, which just makes Finn feel like even more of a failure. All he can do is stick it out, though, so that when he comes home, he actually has a chance at _staying_ there.

 

Noah sits in the living room early on Sunday morning, the same way that he has every Sunday since Finn’s been gone, at least since the first one. There’s no reason _she_ should be with Eliza, but in case she is, Noah will handle the lying. 

It’s bad enough that _she_ did whatever she did to Eliza to make her agree to live with her, but if she realizes Finn is gone, Noah doesn’t want to even think about what it could mean for Charlie, so he’ll make sure there’s no reason for suspicion. 

Eliza lets herself in alone, though, like she has every Sunday, and Noah stands up, pouring her a cup of coffee just as Kurt comes down the stairs. “Hi, sweet potato,” he says, and Eliza gives him a hug before giving Noah one and taking her coffee. 

“Are they really all still asleep?” she asks incredulously. 

“The Peas are talking,” Kurt says, sounding amused. “They think they’re being very quiet.” 

“Of course they do.” Eliza drinks some of her coffee before setting the mug down. “I hate it there.” 

Noah exchanges a glance with Kurt. Some part of him is surprised it’s taken this long, and he nods. “The school?”

“God, yes, the school, but everything. Mom, her temple, the school, all of it. I _hate_ it. I want to come home.” 

“Oh, Eliza,” Kurt murmurs, frowning sadly at her. “We want you home, too.” 

“There’s a but. What’s the but? Why can’t I come home?” 

“Eliza…” Noah shakes his head and grimaces. “Neither of us have legal standing. You know your mom would insist on at least meeting with your dad.” 

“I’ll just tell her it’s fine with Dad, and move back home,” Eliza says. “I’ll keep going to her stupid private school until the school year ends. That should keep her happy.” 

“What if it doesn’t, though?” Kurt says. 

“Sweet potato, we don’t know when he’ll be back. If she says she wants to meet with him, and she can’t, there’s only so long we can put her off,” Noah explains. “It could mean you not getting to move back at all, not even after he’s back or after the school year’s over. It could mean her taking Char. Legally speaking, we’ve purposely not asked Syd, so we can keep pretending we think we’re okay.” 

Kurt sighs. “We’re probably not. But no, as much as we want you home, we can’t right now.” 

Eliza starts to cry, looking lost. “I miss you. I miss you, and I miss Nova and Fiver and Harvey and Charlie, and I miss the cats, and I want to come home.” 

They both move closer to her, putting their arms around her and letting her cry. “We’ll figure it out,” Noah whispers. “After he’s home, we’ll get you home, too. I promise.” 

“I promise, too,” Kurt says. “We miss you, too.” 

“I’m sorry,” Eliza says through more tears. “I’m sorry. You have to tell Dad, as soon as he’s home. I just want to come home.” 

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for,” Noah says, and he can see Kurt nodding. “We’ll be okay. You’ll be home soon.” 

Noah isn’t sure if Eliza believes them, but her tears slowly stop, and she sags against Noah. “I just want to be home.” 

 

Kurt steps out of the Majestic and turns towards 8th Avenue, determined to get a drink at the Starbucks before catching the train home. Noah is staying at the theatre to get a few more business-oriented matters taken care of, and Kurt is thankful again that they’ve been largely absent from seeing the cast since the show opened in the autumn. Their absence over the past five weeks is unremarkable, the way Kurt looks at it, and if there were only professional contacts in the cast, it would be one thing. 

But like all of their shows, the line between professional and personal is at the very least blurred. In this particular production, Mercedes is the lead actress, and Zachary has a part, too. Leslie, while technically a professional contact, feels like someone they’ve known so long that Kurt isn’t sure which category to place him in. All three of them, more than the rest of the cast, would expect to see Finn with them at least periodically, so it’s best they don’t see them much at all, and rarely Kurt and Noah together. 

The Starbucks isn’t crowded, and Kurt orders his coffee before sliding to the side to wait for it to be made. He starts to absently check the kids’ grades, but before he can get very far, he hears a voice calling his name. 

“Kurt!” Mercedes is beside him quickly, giving him a brief hug. “I haven’t seen you in weeks.” 

“Mercedes,” Kurt says quickly, turning to her and forcing a smile. He doesn’t have _time_ for a conversation, not with dinner to fix, homework to supervise, letters to write, discussions to have with Noah, therapy homework for the two of them to complete, and the overall strain of maintaining their facade for however much longer. 

The first week had been hazy. The first two weeks had, for Kurt, been self-absorbed. The third and fourth weeks had still been so hard, it had blunted the pain a little. Now, though, the ache is omnipresent. There’s a constant awareness of someone missing, and Kurt and Noah have agreed that, in addition to being painful, it’s tiring. 

“What have you been up to?” Mercedes continues, and Kurt hopes he didn’t miss too much of what she’s saying. “I haven’t seen you, barely seen Noah, and Finn hasn’t been by, either.” 

“Oh, we’ve all been busy,” Kurt says, relying on lessons learned early to keep himself from wincing or letting on any distress. “I’m sure you’ll see all of us around after school ends for the summer.” 

“That’s still months away, Kurt. How are the kids?” 

Kurt wants badly to trust Mercedes, but part of being the bigger person means that sometimes, some people don’t get told about everything that Rachel has said and done over the years. And in the case of Mercedes, it means that Mercedes is still relatively close to Rachel, and Kurt never knows if what he says will get back to Rachel. 

“They’re good,” Kurt lies. “They’re all doing very well.” Luckily he hadn’t actually checked any grades or behavior reports, because the evidence otherwise would be right on his phone. 

“Are you and Noah working on something new?” Mercedes asks. “Is that why you’ve been so reclusive?”

Kurt nods, because it’s the easiest lie. It’s the easiest lie because it’s not wrong, it’s just not truly correct, either. Noah’s written some songs, and Kurt’s written lyrics to a few of them, and they’ve pulled out old projects and poked at them, but the project they _had_ been focused on is definitely shelved for now. Neither of them really has the heart to work on a musical adaptation of _Three Men and a Baby_ while Finn is gone. 

“A couple of things,” he finally says. “And Noah’s sent out a few scores to some producers.” Of course, everything Noah’s sent have been pieces that he’s had finished for months or even years, just sitting waiting for a home. 

“And Finn? What’s he up to?” 

“Oh, he’s digging into some research right now,” Kurt says. “That I don’t quite understand, to be honest with you.” 

Mercedes laughs. “I wouldn’t either, even if you tried to explain it to me.” The barista calls Kurt’s name, and as he takes his cup, he can see Mercedes scanning for seats. “Take a minute?” she suggests. 

“Oh, Mercedes, I can’t,” Kurt says, trying to sound apologetic. “I was just going to get my drink before I got on the train.” His choice of Starbucks locations hadn’t even made that much sense, given that he needs to go up to either Rockefeller Center or 50th St to catch his train uptown. 

Mercedes sighs and tsks. “I’m going to keep looking for you,” she threatens jokingly, and Kurt manages the appropriate smile in response before he takes his leave. 

Once Kurt’s out on 8th Avenue, walking north, he can feel his shoulders sag a little, though he keeps his face as impassive as he can. Mercedes’ questions mean that she, at least, has noticed, and if she’s noticed their sporadic appearances and Finn’s absence, that means other people have as well. That means they need to be even more careful, and Kurt decides that might mean the occasional taxi to take them door to door. The fewer chances for anyone to spot them, the less chance for questions to erupt or for people to interrogate them. 

When Kurt finally gets home, a good fifteen minutes ahead of the kids, he goes into the small first-floor bathroom and cries before splashing water on his face. The kids will be home soon, and maybe if they eat a snack right away, Kurt can supervise most of the Peas’ homework while Safiya is still there with Nova and Fiver. Maybe if homework goes well, dinner will go well, and maybe he and Noah will get more than a few hours of sleep. Maybe if they just keep going, no one will notice anything else. 

 

When it’s been a little more than five weeks, Noah and Kurt talk to the housekeeping service with a slightly different set of instructions. Clean sheets on the bed upstairs, but no need to change them more than once a week unless they’ve been disturbed. Clean sheets on the bed on the fourth floor, once, and then leave it. Regular changes downstairs but they’ll try to keep it neat. No alcohol in the house, period, and if any products are found with drinking alcohol in them, could Kurt and Noah please be informed? They’ve gone through everything, even the mouthwash, because there’s no excuse not to. 

Now they’re waiting. They’ve put off a call from Carole, asking why she hasn’t heard from Finn lately. The kids seem almost resigned to Finn’s absence, but Noah thinks that there’s a possibility they’re picking up on Kurt and Noah’s anticipation. At worst, they’re past halfway, or that’s Noah’s calculations. There are things that they put back out, waiting for Finn, things that they couldn’t bear to look at before: Finn’s toothbrush, Finn’s coffee mug, Finn’s umbrella. 

They’ve talked to Michelle about all three of them coming in, and assuming Finn’s okay with it, with all of them coming in in pairs after that and figuring out where they all need to be from there. It’s going to be spring soon, and Noah’s never felt any sentimentality about the seasons before, but it’s almost April. Noah keeps telling himself that Finn will be home sometime in April. 

He’s so sure about that fact, even, that he buys a ticket for every game of the subway series the first full week of May. 

“Putting your money where your mouth is?” Kurt says almost teasingly, and there’s a smile on his face that makes Noah smile, too, and their eyes both flick out the window, as if somehow they have the ability to transmit a smile to Finn. 

“Like you haven’t spent any money based on my prediction?” Noah counters, and Kurt shrugs his acknowledgement. There are things that are going to suck, conversations that are going to have to be had, but they’ll all be together again. He and Kurt had work to do, and it’s good they did it, but they could have done it with Finn at home, and the better things get between the two of them, the more they each miss Finn. 

“I keep trying to imagine it,” Kurt says softly. “And I’m so selfish, but I want it to be during the day, while the kids are at school and Safiya’s got Fiver. I want _us_ to have him for a little while.” 

“If it’s selfish, I’m selfish, too,” Noah says with a shrug. 

“We’ll be selfish together?” 

Noah grins and looks out the window again before he looks back at Kurt. “Yeah. We’ll all three be selfish together.” 

 

The first thing Finn does when he gets up is go to the gym for his run. He swings by the desk on his way back to his room for his pills—down to just the antidepressant and his regular supplements now—then starts the water running for the shower. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, running his hand over his rehab beard. It’s as much grey as it is black, and it makes Finn look much older. As he continues looking at himself in the mirror, Finn weighs keeping it versus shaving it, but decides he doesn’t feel right about wearing it home. The beard was fine for rehab, but he’s got to actually show his face to the world again. 

Before he showers, Finn trims the beard up as much as possible. Once he’s out of the shower, water off, he slowly lathers his face and carefully shaves with his barely-used razor. Once he’s made sure he hasn’t missed anything, he washes his face and splashes on his regular aftershave, bottles of which Syd had sent to him on three separate occasions, each with a note that said ‘Take a hint’.

He puts on a long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of jeans, both of which are significantly looser than when he entered rehab. Once he’s dressed, he slowly packs all of his personal belongings. It’s still very early, and he’s hoping he’ll arrive home to an empty house, so he has a little time to anchor himself before he has to talk to anyone. He’s still not sure what to say to Noah and Kurt, or what they’ll say to him. He hasn’t opened any of the letters they sent, and they sent so many that he had to ask Priya for a bag to put them in. That bag gets set by the door, next to his suitcase. 

Paulo is waiting for Finn outside the room, leaning through the door to pick up Finn’s bags. Finn starts to protest, but Paulo just gives him a look that Finn knows means ‘knock it off, boss’, so Finn steps out of Paulo’s way.

“Rishawna’s got the release paperwork,” Paulo says, as they head toward the elevator. Finn stops at the desk again to say goodbye to Priya first, and to thank her for all her help. She gives Finn a hug before shooing him toward the elevator. 

“Well,” Finn says, sighing as the elevator doors closed. “Here we go.”

“You’re gonna be fine, boss,” Paulo say. “You got this.”

“I sure hope so. No more room for fuck ups,” Finn says.

Paulo laugh. “There’s always room for fuck ups,” he says. “Just don’t make the same ones twice.”

Once they reach the lobby level, Paulo sets Finn’s bags by the front doors and holds out his hand. Finn takes it and shakes it, then uses it to pull Paulo in for a brief hug. 

“Thank you,” Finn says. 

“You’re welcome,” Paulo says. He claps Finn on the shoulder before giving him a thumbs up and walking back towards the elevator. Finn heads to the front desk and leans on it, smiling at Rishawna.

“I guess I’m ready for that release paperwork now,” Finn says.

The paperwork takes less than thirty minutes, and it’s around eight-fifteen when Finn heads out the front door, a bag in each hand, to get into the taxi waiting there for him. The drive only takes about five minutes, though it’s cold enough that Finn’s glad for the taxi. He pays the driver, noticing how weird it feels to carry a wallet again, let alone cash, and as the taxi pulls away, he turns to face the house. 

Finn takes a deep breath and sets his shoulders, because whatever happens now, he’s still better for his time in rehab. He doesn’t regret his decision. He’s willing to face the repercussions of his mistake.

“Ok,” he says to himself as he starts up the stairs. “Let’s do this thing.”

 

Tuesdays are the worst day of the week. Tuesdays are the day they have to fill, because they’re the emptiest Tuesdays they’ve ever had. There’s no telephone calls or FaceTime to fill a little of the void. There’s just the knowledge that Finn isn’t there with them. When it’s been a full six weeks, on the seventh Tuesday, they walk everyone to school, meeting Safiya there to hand off Fiver. 

One of the things they’ve slowly worked out is how to try to make the outside world not notice Finn’s absence. They’ve tried to make sure they don’t work on things so extensively that it’s almost too productive. Every other day of the week, Safiya still takes the kids to school. On Tuesdays, though, one or both of them takes the kids, and they hand off Fiver to Safiya at the school. 

All of it leaves long, empty Tuesdays, since if they went to work on Tuesdays, people would talk, and that’s why Noah suggests they stop for a cup of coffee on the way back. They do, and then they walk back home slowly. The day stretches in front of them, a few leaves starting to appear, and Noah starts to consider taking a long nap before the kids get home; it’ll make the day pass faster. 

They’re barely inside the door when Kurt grabs at Noah’s arm. “Noah.” Kurt’s voice is barely audible. “ _Look_.”

Noah almost doesn’t notice at first, because it’s unremarkable, or was, six weeks earlier. Then it hits him that no, none of Finn’s shoes have been beside the door on the shoe rack in weeks, because Finn hasn’t been home in weeks. That was one of the things they hadn’t put back out, since the seasons were changing, too. Now, though, there is a pair of Finn’s shoes sitting on the shoe rack, and that means—

“He’s home,” Kurt says, still whispering. 

“Yeah.” Noah exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and then he exhales again. This time, it feels like he’s letting go of the past six weeks, and it leaves him almost lightheaded. “He’s finally home.” He squeezes Kurt’s hand. “Let’s go find him.” 

“I suppose I hoped he’d be waiting,” Kurt says, heading towards the stairs, and they go down first. 

“We’ll find him, though,” Noah promises. Finn isn’t downstairs, which Noah thinks they both expected, and he isn’t on the main level, either, though they check more closely than they had at first. Noah figures there’s a slim but still possible chance to find him on the kids’ floor, but he isn’t, and Noah finds himself holding his breath again as they go up the next set of stairs. 

Finn isn’t in the bathroom, nor the bedroom, which is probably what they expected and why they went in the order they did. When they get to the office doorway, Noah stops, staring silently, and Kurt does the same. In a minute, they’ll move, they’ll go to Finn, touching him and smelling him and hearing him and tasting him, but for the moment, they just watch, and Noah aches a little, staring at Finn’s back for those few seconds before he and Kurt move simultaneously, one of them on either side of Finn. 

Finn’s thinner, and his hair is cut shorter than usual, which makes it look more grey, but that’s all Noah really observes as they approach and he can start to smell Finn. The scent is a little off but it’s still _Finn_ , and slowly, finally, his hand is touching Finn. He can feel Finn, and his eyes close as he leans towards Finn. At the same moment, he and Kurt both say his name, almost desperately. 

“ _Finn._ ”

Finn turns slowly towards them. Noah keeps himself from completely burying his face against Finn’s neck, but he does take a deep breath before looking up at Finn’s face. He’s definitely lost some weight, and he looks more somber somehow, but he’s there, right in front of them, and Noah just stares. 

“You’re _home_ ,” Kurt says from Finn’s other side, his voice slightly muffled. 

“I know I should’ve called,” Finn says. “Given you some warning, at least.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Noah says, running his hand over Finn’s shoulder and upper arm. “You’re here.” 

“I understand if you need me to leave. I just wanted to be here for a little while first,” Finn says. 

“You just got here,” Kurt says, sounding as confused as Noah feels. “Why would you leave?” 

“You’re not going anywhere. Except maybe to a different room,” Noah says. 

“After what happened, it would make sense, if you didn’t want me here for a while, or… at all.”

“You were gone for six weeks,” Noah says. “I think that’s more than ‘a while’.” 

“Look at me,” Kurt says. “Look at me.” Finn looks down at Kurt, and Kurt spreads his arms and then turns once before raising his eyebrow pointedly. 

“Your arm’s ok?” Finn asks, his voice catching a little and his shoulder starting to shake slightly. 

“My arm is okay, and has been for several weeks,” Kurt says. “And we have things to tell you and _clearly_ you didn’t read a single thing we sent you.” 

“Which is a missed opportunity to read my handwriting, and you should be sad you missed it,” Noah adds. 

“Can anybody read that chicken scratch of yours?” Finn asks. A tear rolls down his face, but he doesn’t wipe it away, and he shakes his head. “I didn’t read them. I wasn’t sure I could make it if you—”

Noah waits a moment to see if Finn will continue, and when he doesn’t, Noah steps even closer to Finn. “You can read my chicken scratch, and I love you.” 

“My penmanship is exemplary,” Kurt says, “so I know you can read it. And I love you.” 

“I love you,” Finn says, tears still running unchecked down his face. “I love you so much. I missed you so much.”

“Oh, darling,” Kurt says, and the two of them wrap their arms around Finn. “We need to go sit down somewhere. Living room? Upstairs?” 

“Living room is good,” Finn says. 

“Then let’s go,” Noah says, pulling back enough to take Finn’s hand as they awkwardly go down the stairs, Kurt holding Finn’s other hand. Noah sits down on Finn’s left side, Kurt on Finn’s right, and Noah leans his head over gently onto Finn’s shoulder. 

“We missed you, too,” Kurt says. “So very much.”

“Are you sure your arm’s ok?” Finn asks. 

“Positive. It was just a dislocated elbow, Finn. I’m _fine_.”

“I’m so sorry, Kurt. I’m so, so sorry,” Finn says, his shoulders shaking again as he starts to cry harder. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I would never hurt you on purpose. I’m just so sorry.”

“I know. I know that,” Kurt says softly. “I’m fine. I promise you. And I’m sorry, too.” 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Finn says. 

“Yes, I do. I should have made sure we used a safe word, for starters,” Kurt says. “I disregarded basic precautions we should have been taking for years, because…” Kurt trails off and exhales loudly. “Because it was a turn on. And good for my ego.” 

“We never needed one before. If I hadn’t been drunk, if I hadn’t been hiding it, we wouldn’t have needed one at all,” Finn say. 

“Maybe. Maybe not. I shouldn’t have set us up for a negative outcome. I’m sorry, darling. I don’t have a good excuse.” 

“You don’t need an excuse,” Finn insists. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You trusted me, and I’m the one that fucked that up.”

“Yes, I did,” Kurt says. “I did do something wrong, and I’m not going to let you take the sole responsibility here. It takes two people to set up a situation.” He pauses. “Or more. You aren’t the only one that fucked up.” 

“We’ve all fucked up,” Noah says quietly, running his fingers down Finn’s forearm and the back of his hand, and then up again. “You’re going to be hearing some apologies, so get used to it. Asshole.” 

“I’m not letting either of you take responsibility for my mistakes, though,” Finn say, adding a hesitant, “asshole.”

“I’m saying we’ve all made mistakes,” Noah says. “Kurt not insisting on a safe word is his mistake. You not understanding in the absence of a safe word, that’s your mistake. _Me_ sticking my head in the sand and assuming you two had a safe word, that’s mine.” 

Finn eyes widen in surprise, probably at Noah’s actual verbal acknowledgment of Finn and Kurt doing anything that would require a safe word. “What we do―did―when we were together wasn’t something you should’ve had to worry about,” Finn says. 

“Worry about? No. But ignoring it wasn’t good, either,” Noah says. “You up for another apology yet?” 

Finn shakes his head. “I think I still owe you too many.”

“Darling, we all owe each other a lot,” Noah says, taking Finn’s hand and closing his eyes briefly. “We had just as much time as you did to think about things. I’ll let you pick: the old thing, or the _really_ old thing?” 

“I’ll go with the old thing, then,” Finn says. 

“Okay.” Noah shifts so he’s sitting sideways, and he looks briefly at Kurt, who looks a little confused, but nods. “I’m so, so sorry about the fucking package deal.” 

Finn shakes his head again. “That was a decade ago. It’s done.”

“And I never apologized, and hey, six weeks ago is done, too,” Noah says. “I’m sorry.” 

“You did what you had to do. I understood it then, and I understand it now,” Finn says. “I didn’t want to ever be something that caused you pain. It sucked, but I wasn’t mad at you about it. I understood.”

“We did a shit job of talking about it, and maybe you should have been. So that was the old thing.” 

“Like Noah said, we had time to think, too,” Kurt says. “We can look back at this later as almost a midlife crisis or something. We’re not going to go backwards, but we’re not burying things.” 

“Ok,” Finn says. “So what’s the really old thing? I’m not sure what could be older than that.”

Noah takes a deep breath and tightens his fingers around Finn’s. “I’m sorry about New Year’s Eve senior year. At Santana’s.” 

Finn tilt his head to the side in confusion. “Why? Did something happen there that I don’t remember?”

“Because I thought it’d be fun. Or funny. And I’m not playing what-if here, but I’m still sorry. Pushing it on you.” 

“Pushing _what_ on me?”

“All of that rum or whatever it was,” Noah says with a grimace. 

“That?” Finn says. “Noah, rum at a party in high school didn’t make me an alcoholic.”

“Doesn’t mean I feel _good_ about it,” Noah points out. “Something doesn’t have to be the cause for one of us to feel like we need to apologize.” 

“Were you there the night you left me in Wisconsin?” Finn ask. “Because you weren’t the one pouring my drinks then. Or the Halloween party. Or in Chicago. I could have had my first drink in any of those places, and I still wouldn’t have been able to stop, because that’s how I am. I don’t drink one. I don’t drink a few and stop.”

“I know. We know.” Noah looks at Kurt, who nods his agreement. “And we ignored it and rationalized it in our heads for a long time.” 

“Longer than you did,” Kurt says. “Funny thing, when you love someone, sometimes you come up with whatever reasons you need to make sure they’re practically perfect.” 

Finn nods. “I understand that, and I understand what you’re saying, too, and you’re not wrong, but…” He shakes his head. “You rationalizing it isn’t what made me drink, just like Eliza moving in with Rachel isn’t what made me drink, and _Rachel_ isn’t what made me drink, and the Bears aren’t what made me drink. I drink because I’m an alcoholic, and if there isn’t a reason, I’d have made one up, and if I thought you’d try to stop me, I’d have started hiding it earlier and better.”

“We still could have used a dose of reality a little sooner,” Noah says, making a face at himself. “And in with all the apologizing, I’m proud of you.” 

“Don’t be. It took something awful happening for me to do anything about it,” Finn says. 

“Which… was still three weeks ahead of me,” Kurt says sheepishly. 

“And still a week too late,” Finn points out. “I never should have ever been in a situation where I could hurt you.”

“We don’t want any of us to be in a situation close to the last six or so weeks ever again,” Noah says. “That’s what we’re saying. So, yeah, I’m going to talk about what you two do, and we’re going to fumble through this with better communication between all three of us.” 

“Ok,” Finn says softly, finally wiping some of the tears off his face. 

“Considering our professions, communication has not always been our strongest area,” Kurt says. “And to go along with what Noah said about the package deal, the bedroom is for the three of us. It’s not a perfect solution, but there’s no reason Noah and I can’t use the basement bedroom the way you and I or you and Noah use your bedroom.” 

“Maybe… maybe it shouldn’t be _my_ bedroom,” Finn says. “I mean, unless that’s where you want me to stay for a while, and I can do that, I figured I’d probably need to do that.”

“No,” Noah says. “For starters, I bet you miss that mattress as much as we do. And we talked about that, about the bedroom, but we weren’t going to make that kind of call without you here.” 

“I do miss the mattress,” Finn admits. 

“Good, then we’ll all be upstairs,” Kurt says. “And you’ll probably get tired of us. We may have made somewhat optimistic plans.” 

“Yeah?” Finn ask.

“There’s some concerts. Plays, I think.” Noah grins. “Baseball games. Sound like some things you could put up with?” 

“What games are we talking?”

“First full week of May’s got a Subway Series,” Noah says. 

“You got us tickets to one of those?” Finn asks. 

“No,” Kurt says with a dramatic sigh. “He got the two of you tickets to _all_ of them.” 

Finn’s face shifts into the first real smile since he’s been back. “You really want to be a firsthand witness to a full week of asskicking?”

“I know whose ass gets kicked,” Noah says. 

“Hey!” Finn says. “This year could be our year, asshole!”

 

Finn loses track of how long they sit on the sofa, their legs pressed together and holding hands in every possible combination while they talk, mostly about non-serious things. He knows things aren’t really fixed between them, and that it might take as long to fix them as it did to break them, but the longer Finn sits between them, the more he can feel himself relaxing. By the time he hears a door slam downstairs, Finn feels weightless and almost giddy.

The familiar sound of a herd of small horses running up a staircase echos through the foyer, and Finn turns his head to look right as Charlie, Harvey, and Nova appear in the door.

“Dad?” Charlie says quietly, then she shrieks “Dad!” and starts running towards the sofa, throwing herself on top of Finn, her legs over Noah and her backpack in Kurt’s lap. “Dad! Dad, you’re home!”

Finn puts his arm around Charlie, hugging her and trying to slide her backpack off Kurt at the same time. “I’m home,” he says. “I’m home, Charlie.”

“Easy, Char,” Noah says, moving her legs a little. “He’s not going anywhere.” 

Harvey doesn’t say anything, just hurries over to Finn and climbs on top of Finn and Charlie. “Dad,” he whispers once his arms are hugging Finn. 

“Hey there, Harv,” Finn says, trying to expand his hug to include Harvey. As soon as he moves his arm, though, Nova climbs over Charlie’s backpack and into Kurt’s lap, fitting herself into the small space between Kurt and Finn.

“I knew you’d come back,” Nova says, wrapping her arms around Finn’s side.

“Of course I came back,” Finn says. “I’m sorry I had to be gone for so long.”

“Good thing you’re not claustrophobic,” Noah says, finally rearranging Charlie’s legs.

“More like good thing I’ve been doing a lot of lifting the past six weeks,” Finn say. “I love all of you, but please don’t squish Daddy and Papa.”

“But we can squish you?” Nova ask.

“Yeah, I haven’t been squished in a long time,” Finn say, “so squish away.”

“Don’t tell Fiver that,” Harvey says very seriously. “She might pee on you.” 

“She has a lot of accidents now,” Nova says.

“So I’ve heard. We’ll just have to help her not have so many now that I’m home,” Finn says.

“She’s still little. It’s understandable,” Kurt says, sounding like it’s something he’s said to Nova more than once before. “Safiya probably took her upstairs to play, since it’s homework time. I can go get her.” 

“Can you get out from under the kids?” Finn asks.

“Barely,” Kurt says, sliding sideways before standing up. 

“No homework today,” Noah says. “One of us will send a note.” 

“I don’t have homework anyway,” Nova says. “I finished it while we were doing reading. I already read that book three times.”

“Because you’re one of our four smart girls,” Finn says.

“Guess who’s here, Fiver?” Kurt says, his voice coming down the stairwell. “Guess who’s home?” 

“My Dad?” Fiver asks. “My Dad to my home?”

“Your Dad,” Kurt agrees, and he sets Fiver down as they walk back in the room. When Fiver sees Finn under the pile of her siblings, she grins and claps.

“My _Dad_!” Fiver yells. “Dad at my home!” She runs to the sofa and climbs on top of the sibling pile to put her arms around Finn’s neck.

“Don’t pee, Fiver,” Nova whispers to her. “You’ll pee on Charlie.”

Noah starts laughing, trying to muffle it. “If she pees now, I think we’re all out of luck, Nova.” 

“There’d be Fiver-pee on everybody,” Charlie says, her voice slightly muffled by her face still being pressed against Finn.

“No pee,” Fiver says happily. “My Dad at home.”

Kurt sits back down on the other side of Nova. “I told Safiya she could go ahead and leave for the day.”

“You’re not sick anymore?” Harvey suddenly asks, looking at Finn. 

“I’m doing a lot better,” Finn says. 

“Papa and Daddy said it was something where we couldn’t visit you,” Harvey says. “I told Charlie it was probably one of those airport diseases.” 

Finn nods. “I was at a place with a lot of other people who were sick with the same thing, and some of them felt better than others. It needed to be quiet and calm there, so everybody could get better. We can talk a little more about that later, ok, Harv?”

Harvey shrugs. “If you want to. I’m glad you’re better.” 

“Me, too. I missed my kids.” Finn hugs the whole kid-pile. 

“We missed you, Dad,” Harvey says. “Do we have to go to school tomorrow?”

Finn laughs. “Probably, Harvinator. Spring break is next week, isn’t it?”

“Yep,” Noah says. “Good try, Harv.” 

“I don’t know where he gets it,” Kurt says. 

“I never skipped a day of school in my life,” Finn says.

“Yeah, yeah, model student,” Noah says. “I remember taking the fall at least once so you could get the attendance award. What was that, fifth grade?” 

“And that was the best ice cream I ever tasted, and I shared it with you,” Finn says. “I was doing it for both of us.”

“Yeah, that’s what you told me,” Noah says. “But Harv, the real master at playing hooky is Daddy.” 

“Giving away all my secrets,” Kurt says as Harvey laughs. 

“Will you stay here all day while we're at school?” Nova asks.

“I might have to go in to my office for a little while to make sure everything’s been taken care of while I was gone, but I’ll be home when you get home,” Finn says. “I promise I’m not going away again.”

“Maybe while you’re at school, Nova, the three of us will talk about what we want to do next week for spring break,” Noah says to her. “Okay?” 

“I want to go to Cuba,” Nova says. “We read about it in school. Or New Mexico.”

“Cuba or New Mexico. I don’t know that we can do either of those in a week,” Kurt says. “Maybe those would be good summer trips.” 

“Or the beach,” Nova adds.

“I like the beach,” Charlie says in her muffled voice. “Can we go to the one with all the dolphins?”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Char,” Noah says. “Have you four managed to make Dad into a pancake yet?” 

“I’m pretty flat,” Finn says. “Good job, kids.”

 

After Thai food and after the kids demand so many stories that Kurt loses count, Fiver finally falls asleep, Nova stops bouncing enough to lie down, and the Peas are more or less quiet in their room, which means that Kurt, Noah, and Finn can leave the kids’ floor and head upstairs. 

“Come on, darling,” Kurt says, and he and Noah tug a little on Finn’s hands as they enter the bedroom. “It’s our turn again to squish you between us.” 

Finn doesn’t resist being tugged, but his expression and body language both seem hesitant. Noah reaches the bed first, turning to Finn with a small grin. “You did say you’d missed the mattress, right?” 

“Maybe we should give it a few days,” Finn says. “Let everybody get used to me being back.”

Kurt sighs and drops Finn’s hand. “Maybe we assumed too much. You’re the one who keeps talking about sleeping somewhere else.” 

“Or leaving again,” Noah adds. “If you’re… I guess just tell us, as much as it sucks.” 

“That’s not what— I don’t _want_ to leave,” Finn says. “I’m just worried. What if you’re both so excited or relieved that I’m home right now that you’re making decisions based on that, but then two days later, or three, or a week, you’ll remember you were angry, and it’ll be that much worse.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” Kurt says. “You’re dodging us.” 

“We had time to think. We made decisions before we knew when you’d be home. We had time to miss you,” Noah says, looking resigned. “So don’t put it off on us.” 

Finn sighs loudly and shakes his head. “I don’t know how either of you will be able to trust me. I don’t know if _I_ trust me.”

“But you have to trust us to decide for ourselves,” Kurt says. “And if you’re willing, what we want right now is to lie down on the bed with you.” 

“Shit,” Noah says, and when Kurt turns towards him, he’s sitting on the very edge of the bed, rubbing his hands across his face. 

“I’ll lie down with you,” Finn says, his voice soft. “Noah. Baby.”

Noah doesn’t look up, just stretches out his arm again, and Kurt walks over to the opposite side of the bed, watching Finn and Noah. Finn sits down next to Noah, not quite close enough for their bodies to touch, and cradles Noah’s face in one hand. Noah tilts his head into it, and the hand he had outstretched comes down slowly on Finn’s leg.

Kurt feels like the room is holding its breath, and he settles down on the bed, facing them and watching. Finn slowly leans in until his mouth is by Noah’s ear, and Kurt can hear him whispering softly, though he can’t make out the words. 

“Me too,” Noah says in response, and then a little bit louder, “Do you trust us?” 

Finn nods. “More than I trust myself.”

“So if we ask for something, or we say we want something, you’ll believe us, even if it’s something good?” Noah asks, and Kurt smiles. 

Finn nods again. “I will.”

“Then let’s lie down, and you should let me imitate the kids against your side, and then see what Kurt wants,” Noah says. “Okay?” 

“Ok,” Finn says. “Ok, I can do that.”

“Good,” Noah says, and Kurt waits until the two of them are lying down, Noah pressed up against Finn’s side, before he stretches out on Finn’s other side, propping his head up on one hand and still watching them. 

Finn still has Noah’s face cupped in one hand, and after they’ve been lying there for a moment, he tilts Noah’s face up and leans in, pressing their lips together gently. Noah immediately returns the kiss, and Kurt can easily imagine how much near-desperation Noah is putting into the kiss, one of his hands grabbing at Finn’s t-shirt and bunching it up in his fist. Finn is more reserved, his kisses tentative.

Still, it’s Noah who slowly ends the kiss, staring at Finn with the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “We can understand if you don’t trust you, but don’t shut us out?” 

Finn nods. “I’ll try.”

“We’ll hold you to that,” Noah says with a small grin. “Why don’t you see what K wants, now?” 

Finn nods again, rolling towards Kurt. “Hey.”

“Hi, darling,” Kurt says, trying not to smile too widely. “Is the mattress as good as you remembered?” 

“Yes. Better than the one at the place.”

“I don’t think there’s actually a better mattress anywhere.” Kurt moves a little closer to Finn, running his hand down Finn’s arm. “I have a request.” 

“Yeah?” Finn asks.

“I want a kiss. Well, one for the moment. More kissing later.” 

“Ok,” Finn says, taking Kurt’s face in his hand like he had Noah’s, and giving him a gentle kiss. Kurt keeps his hand on Finn’s upper arm as he kisses back, almost painfully slowly, and when Kurt pulls back, he smiles at Finn again. 

“You should double-check with Noah just to be sure,” he says, trying to sound somber, “but I think we’d like there to be a considerable amount of kissing.” 

“Yeah,” Noah says. “Maybe even an excessive amount.” 

“Ok. We can do that,” Finn says. 

“Just ‘can’?” Noah asks. 

“Will,” Finn says. “Will do that.”

“We’re not trying to push you into anything,” Kurt says softly. “But we missed you, and we want to be close to you, and as much as the talking is good, we want kisses, too.” 

“I missed you, too,” Finn says, tipping Kurt’s face up for another soft kiss, his lips barely parting. 

“Can you stand us being a little selfish for a while?” Noah asks while Finn and Kurt are still kissing. Finn nods, not pulling away from Kurt. “Good.” 

Kurt nods his own agreement, kissing the corner of Finn’s mouth. “We’re going to be. Sabbaticals usually last quite a few months, right?” 

“So I’m not going back to work yet?”

“We’re not forcing you not to,” Noah says. “But you definitely have the option not to that we would strongly encourage.” 

“I don’t think I’m ready to jump back into it full time, anyway,” Finn says. “I think what I really need is to take some time with my family.”

“We have about an hour’s worth of work to take care of each day, at least for the rest of the month,” Kurt says. “But we’ve been shifting things so we could more or less take May off, and we already do practically take June off.” 

“I probably need to touch base with a few of my clients, but I think it’s better if I don’t go back yet,” Finn says. 

“Take care of you first,” Noah says. “And if I can make a suggestion, the rest of your priorities should be us. And the kids.” 

Finn nods. “I have a lot damage to fix here.”

“Not about damage,” Noah insists, and Kurt shakes his head, because it’s not. “It’s not about fixing so much as it is about… what was it you said, K?”

“Foundation?” 

“Yeah, that.” 

“We have a lot of routines that have to change,” Finn says. “And that kind of change isn’t going to be easy.”

“No, but we’re all more or less on the same page about the need for the change,” Kurt says. “And we’re all willing to do the necessary work.” 

“We can’t keep secrets from each other anymore, either,” Finn say. 

“No,” Kurt agrees. 

“Except for surprises,” Noah says. “I’m still not telling you ahead of time what I’m getting you for your birthday. And we’re not telling you what we’re getting you for our Tuesday, either.” 

“Oh no, darling, how will you ever figure it out?” 

“I definitely can’t look back on the last ten years and make an educated guess,” Finn says, smiling. 

Noah makes an exaggeratedly sad face. “We’ll have to just get more than usual then.” 

“Fill an entire floor of the house?” Kurt suggests. 

“We have to be able to walk, guys,” Finn says. 

“Party pooper,” Noah says with a sigh. “Surprises aside, you’re right. No actual secrets.” 

“Surprises are ok,” Finn agrees. 

“Do we have any secrets we need to divulge tonight, or can we get to work on the important job of excessive kissing?” Kurt asks. 

Finn smiles and runs his thumb down Kurt’s cheek. “I think the secrets can wait for tomorrow.”

 

After breakfast, and after the kids have to be peeled off Finn with assurances that yes, he will be there when they get home from school, Finn goes upstairs to change from pajamas to running clothes, and Noah and Kurt load the dishwasher. Finn heads out for a run and Noah looks at Kurt almost ruefully. 

“When’s the last time we finished breakfast still wearing pajamas?” 

“If it’s what he needs for now, I suppose it’s easy enough. _Odd_ , sleeping in pajamas, but not much effort.” 

“No, not really,” Noah agrees. “I mean, he’s clearly holding back, but I guess we should have expected that.” 

Kurt shrugs a little as he nods and heads up the stairs, and it isn’t until they’re both almost dressed that he says anything else. “It’s a hard line to balance, letting him set the pace but also making sure he knows _we’re_ comfortable when he is ready to stop holding back. More than comfortable.” 

“Enthusiastically waiting but no pressure?” Noah says. “Yeah, no matter how much we try to balance it, I think it’s going to seem like we’re either not as enthusiastic as we are or we are putting some pressure on. We’ll just have to talk about it.” He makes a face as they go back downstairs, causing Kurt to laugh. 

“Everything has an asterisk to talk about it now,” Kurt agrees. “It’s not been our normal modus operandi.” 

“Which isn’t a great endorsement for not talking about it. Not that anything was _bad_ , just…” Noah trails off and shrugs. “We can all see where it could have been _better_.” 

“Exactly. What’s the one thing you want to make sure we talk about today?” Kurt asks. “As much as we should revisit the conversation about secrets, I think my top priority for today is probably Eliza.” 

“Good call. Spring break, just because of the time frame.” Noah pours them each a second mug of coffee and they sit near the window people-watching until they finally see Finn returning, and when the door shuts, Noah calls out. “Come here for a second before you shower, darling.” 

“On my way up,” Finn calls back, and they can hear him sprinting up the stairs. He walks in, dripping sweat. “Hey.”

“Good run?” Kurt asks. 

“Yeah. I mapped out a new route before I left. It was a good run,” Finn says. 

“One question for you,” Noah says. “If we only talked about one thing today, what would be the one thing you’d want it to be?” 

“When I can see Eliza,” Finn says. “I want her to know I’m home, and I want to make sure she doesn’t think it was her fault.”

“Kurt has that one covered,” Noah says. “His was Eliza. Mine’s spring break, because of the time factor.” 

Finn nods. “Ok, then. Therapy. I have Dale, you and Kurt have Michelle, but the three of us should probably see someone, and I really want to get all the kids in to one of my colleagues.”

“Probably wise,” Kurt says, nodding. “Okay. We’ll be down here when you’re less sweaty.” He smiles and teasingly shoos Finn towards the stairs. 

“Yeah, don’t tease us with your sweaty self,” Noah says. 

Finn’s return smile is actually a little shy. “I’m going. I’m going.”

Once Finn is at least halfway up the stairs, Noah stands up and walks towards the kitchen, pulling out plain Greek yogurt and then staring into the freezer at the various frozen fruit. “Tomorrow I’m making my topic about how going for a long run is cruel to us.”

Kurt snorts. “Yes, definitely a burning issue. Go with the blueberries.” 

 

Finn comes down from the shower with his hair still dripping, and wearing his most comfortable pair of jeans, which are now—like most of his clothes—a little too baggy. His seat has a cup of coffee on the table in front of it, next to a tall glass of something in the purplish-greenish range. Kurt seems to be eyeing the glass suspiciously.

“Thanks for the… smoothie?” Finn guesses, pulling out his chair to sit. 

“Hey, K’s the one who said to go with the blueberries,” Noah says. “And Hannah would be proud, there’s raw honey in it.” 

“I’m sure it’s great,” Finn says. “Thanks.” He doesn’t ask why they didn’t just mix up some of his protein powder; he can make a good enough guess as to why. He drinks a sip of the smoothie and grins at Noah. “See? It’s great.”

“Now I know you’re lying,” Noah says with a laugh. “Start with easiest and move to hardest, or vice versa?” 

“Let’s start with Eliza,” Finn says. “How do we get her back?”

“We put her off a few weeks ago,” Kurt says, frowning. “We had to, since we figured Rachel would demand to talk to you about it, and we were already… avoiding the issue as far as Charlie was concerned. Eliza thinks if she agrees to keep going to the school the rest of the year, that will satisfy her.” 

“I think it’s more likely Eliza’ll have to say she plans to continue there,” Noah says, “but one bridge at a time.” 

“But if she wants to come home, I’m going to fight to get her here,” Finn says. 

“She does. She also knows where you actually were. ‘Sick’ doesn’t really work on a fourteen year old,” Noah says. 

“And she knows, right? She knows it has nothing to do with her?”

“She knows that,” Noah says slowly, then looks at Kurt and frowns. 

“Or, rather, she’s been told often enough,” Kurt says. “I think we understand a bit where she’s coming from. Knowing it and feeling it aren’t quite the same.” 

“And that’s why mine was therapy,” Finn say. “The kids need to _know_.”

“We all need to be therapized,” Noah agrees. 

“Did you have anyone you know in mind for the kids?” Kurt asks. “I’m sure we could ask Michelle, too.” 

“Violet McCreary would be a good choice for Fiver. She’s taken some of my younger clients,” Finn says. “She might be good for Nova, too. It wouldn’t be the worst idea for the two of them to go together sometimes, too.”

“Someone different for Eliza?” Noah asks. “Since she’s older, I mean.” 

“I was thinking Eliza and the Peas could see Greg Aberdeen. He mostly works with teenagers, but I know Charlie and Harvey would like him.”

Kurt laughs. “Charlie at least likes to think of herself as a teenager.” 

“Or an adult,” Noah says wryly. “That’s the kids, then. And the three of us should go see Michelle.” He shrugs a little. “Really, you and K should go, and you and I should go, too, but maybe the three of us for a few sessions first.” 

“I’ll be seeing Dale every morning this week, then twice a week for another few weeks,” Finn says. “Different specialty than Michelle, though.”

“Luckily no one’s found that there’s such a thing as ‘too much therapy’,” Noah says. 

“We’ve got something of a standing appointment at Michelle’s early Friday afternoons now, so we can all go this week,” Kurt suggests. 

“Ok,” Finn says. “Spring break?”

“We should go some place educational,” Noah says. “Not Cuba. And not New Mexico, either. Too long of a flight.” 

“Philly or DC?” Finn suggests. 

“Either way, we could take the train.” Kurt nods, then tilts his head slightly. “Maybe DC. Nova’d probably like the American Indian Museum.” 

“Charlie and Harvey would like the Air and Space Museum,” Finn says. 

“Charlie and Harvey might try to fly something out of the Air and Space Museum,” Kurt says, laughing. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on them there.” 

“I say if they can get one of those planes started, we just let ’em go,” Finn says. 

Noah laughs. “We’ll just have to bail ’em out afterwards.” 

“Look at us, working through things so quickly,” Kurt says. “Before your appointment, even. We’ll take care of what we need to while you’re gone.” 

“And I can make those appointments for the kids. You’ll let Syd know about Eliza? Maybe we can get Eliza over here after school on Friday, since it’s spring break,” Noah says. 

“I’ll call her on my way to the place,” Finn says. 

“We’re going to be—” Noah cuts himself off and laughs. “I was going to say fine, but we’ll be better than that, and then I was going to say good.” 

“Yeah, we will be good,” Finn says. 

Kurt smiles at both of them. “No, you’re both wrong. We’re _always_ good.” 

 

By the point on Friday that they’re fixing dinner and waiting on Eliza to arrive, Kurt is beginning to think that talking and therapy are close to a full-time job anyway. The only time that they’ve really stopped all day long is the hour that Finn was running after breakfast, when he and Noah went downstairs. Their intention hadn’t exactly been to have a quickie, but it had easily gone that direction, and afterwards they had agreed it wasn’t the worst schedule or idea in the world. They don’t know how long the nights of pajamas, including t-shirts, and excessive kissing will continue. 

“Finn, darling?” Kurt says. “Can you do me a favor?” 

“Sure. What do you need?”

“That last doily Nana sent, the green and yellow one?” Kurt says with a laugh. 

“Uh oh! Sun must be down,” Finn says. 

“You two are awful,” Noah says, pretending to glare at Kurt. “I swear you tell Nana to keep making doilies, too.”

“Did you remember to tell her at Hanukkah, Finn?” Kurt asks. 

“I might have also suggested a table runner with some fringe,” Finn says. 

“Absolutely awful,” Noah says. “And anyway, since—”

“I’m home!” Eliza’s voice calls. “Papa? Daddy? Where are you?” 

“They’re in here!” Finn calls back.

“Dad!” Kurt can hear Eliza running the rest of the way to the kitchen and then she stops and stares at Finn. “Oh my god, Dad, your hair makes you look so old!” Then she runs the rest of the way to Finn and gives him a hug that looks impressively strong considering her size. Finn lifts her and spins her once before dropping her back down onto her feet.

“I thought it would be fair if I looked at least as old as your Papa and Daddy are,” Finn says, grinning at Kurt over Eliza’s head. “I am so much younger than them, you know.”

“Cougars,” Noah agrees. “Hi, sweet potato.” 

“Hi!” Eliza stares at Finn again, tilting her head in, Kurt admits, an almost perfect imitation of the way he does. “Are you better?” she asks softly. 

“I’m getting there,” Finn says. 

“I’m sorry!” Eliza says, then starts crying. 

“Eliza,” Kurt murmurs. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not your fault. None of this was your fault,” Finn says, pulling Eliza against his chest and holding her. “And it’s not your mom’s fault, either. It’s nothing anybody did to me.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at the mention of Rachel, and he can see Noah making a face, too, but neither of them says anything. Kurt continues tossing the salad, and Noah pulls the lasagna out of the oven. 

“I missed you,” Eliza says through her tears. “I missed you so much, and I couldn’t even call you, but I did good, Dad, I didn’t let her know.” 

“I know. I missed you, too,” Finn says. 

“I just wanted to come home. I still do. I don’t want to go back after spring break.” 

“Syd’s getting the ball rolling on that,” Finn promises. “We’ll get you back home for good. She didn’t think it would be that hard.”

“Okay.” Eliza sniffs a few more times and then lifts her head up, wiping her eyes. “I looked things up, so don’t lie to me about everything,” she says fiercely. 

“We’re not going to lie to you, sweet potato, but your dad’s got the right to keep some things private,” Noah says. 

Eliza thinks for a moment, nods, and then turns back to Finn. “How’s your liver?” she demands. 

“It’s fine,” Finn says. “I check out just fine. Bloodwork and everything.”

“Good.” Eliza sags a little after that, leaning against Finn again. “I’m so glad you’re home,” she whispers. 

“I am, too,” Finn says. 

Kurt leans against the counter, watching Eliza and Finn for a moment, and then glances at Noah, who’s doing the same thing. 

“Everyone’s home,” Noah says softly. 

“The only halfway decent thing about there was Jesse,” Eliza says, and Kurt thinks it’s a measure of how much faith they all put in Syd that she’s already using past tense. “He doesn’t ask me about trying to sing again, and he brought me a ham sandwich one day.” She crosses her arms. “Mom keeps asking me if I’ve met any cute boys.” 

“Did you tell her she was too old for high school boys?” Noah asks, winking at Eliza. 

“The real question is, are there any cute _girls_?” Finn asks. 

“Dad!” Eliza says, turning red. “If I tell you, you’ll embarrass me in front of her!” 

“Yes. Yes I will,” Finn says, looking pleased with himself. “So that’s a yes!”

“Ugh!” Eliza says, the red getting darker on her face. “And if _you_ don’t, I know Daddy or Papa will.” 

“Three times the dads, three times the dad jokes,” Finn says.

“Bet it’s the tall redhead,” Noah says, grinning at Eliza. “What was her name? Lindsey?” 

“Ainsley, not Lindsey!” Eliza blurts out, then says, “Oh crap.” 

“Once you’re back home, you’ll have to invite Ainsley over for dinner,” Finn says. “I can show her your baby pictures. That’s a dad-thing, right? The baby pictures?”

“Oh my god,” Eliza mutters, shaking her head. “I’m so dead.” 

“I think we have that entire set from her first Valentine’s Day printed out still,” Kurt says. “That’d be a good choice, I think.” 

“Maybe we should just leave them lying around the living room in strategic locations,” Finn suggests. 

“Bathroom,” Noah says. “Everyone always needs reading material in there.” 

 

The Peas and Nova chase each other up and down the sidewalk, sending up swirls of fallen cherry blossom petals. Fiver tries to grab her siblings when they get close, then chase after them, but her legs are just too short to let her catch them. Finn sips his coffee, watching the kids play, until his phone rings.

“Hey Syd,” Finn says as soon as he’s put the phone to his ear. “What’s up?”

“Mostly good news, actually. You’ve got a minute?” 

“Sure. Noah and Kurt took Eliza in to see some traveling exhibit at the American History Museum. Noah thought the pictures might give the Peas ideas, so we’re out here playing in the cherry blossoms.”

“I heard back from Rachel’s lawyer. Once I sat down with Eliza and learned a little more about what Rachel has said to her, it was relatively easy to point out to Sunny that most of Rachel’s talking points were irrelevant at best. I did find a couple of people to put on standby that would be willing to be deposed to the effect that a denominational schism isn’t a wholesale rejection of religious education, even if you were somehow required to honor Rachel’s religious requests.” 

“What?” Finn says. “Syd, I don’t even know what all of that means. What _exactly_ is it that Rachel has been saying?”

Syd sighs. “She told Eliza that if she didn’t go to that school, she was going to go to court and get custody of Eliza _and_ Charlie. And Eliza, in typical teenage fashion, told no one and decided she had to fall on the sword for the entire family, more or less. One of Rachel’s threats had to do with how little she likes Noah’s—and Eliza’s—particular brand of Jewishness.” 

“God, no wonder Eliza went along with it. Can you imagine how Rachel would treat Charlie if she got her for good?” 

“I’ve been trying not to think about it,” Syd says. “You nullified another one of Rachel’s talking points. She did at least reveal her entire plan to Eliza, who remembered it very well.” 

“Do I even want to know?” Finn says, sighing. “No, I need to know. What was the plan, exactly?”

“She was going to bring up your drinking, which you’ve not only nullified but turned into a positive mark for all of you. The therapy is good, too.” 

“Let’s not oversell it, though. It took me way too long to get help,” Finn says. 

“I’ve got my lawyer hat on right now, Hudson, not the best friend hat. And then she was trying to make a big deal about how close the Peas are.” 

“What? That’s ridiculous! They’ve known each other their entire lives. Of course they’re close!”

“Frankly, I think she was trying to, well, sexualize the relationship between two ten year olds,” Syd says. “When I phrased it like that, Sunny almost dropped the phone. It won’t be brought up again.” 

“Yeah, it had better fucking not,” Finn says, shaking his head. “I swear, Syd, I could kill her for pulling that shit with Eliza.”

“Don’t say that. I already am keeping an eye on any money Noah moves, because he said he’d like to hire a hitman,” Syd says. “Or at least say it on a secure line with no witnesses.” 

“I’ll just be happy if she leave the girls alone,” Finn says. 

“She will. Sunny’s a good lawyer, but frankly, Tina and I are better. We can drag it out if necessary, but right now Rachel is willing to agree to everything you said you wanted, with two conditions. One is what we’ve already discussed, with Eliza finishing the school year at her current school,” Syd says. “I didn’t think that would be an issue, considering it’s already late April.” 

“Ok. What’s the other one?” Finn asks. 

“She wants thirty minutes to try to convince Eliza to continue there next year. She told her lawyer she wanted thirty minutes alone with Eliza, but the emphasis on alone concerned me, and frankly, concerned Rachel’s lawyer as well, so it would be with Rachel’s lawyer and I in the room as well.” 

“Yeah, I think she’s spent enough time alone with Rachel for a lifetime,” Finn says. “That’s how we got into this mess to begin with.”

“I told Sunny that all communication between them had to be audible to both of us. The meeting would be at some point within the first two weeks of May, but Eliza won’t have to go back over there when you get home,” Syd says. “I can send the agreement for you to sign, if those conditions work.” 

“That’s wonderful. You’re awesome, Syd!”

“And highly paid, too, I know. Am I still expected for dinner Saturday?” 

“You know it. I’m saving a special doily for you,” Finn says.

“I thought those were Friday only?” 

Finn laughs. “Usually, but we’re having dinner before sundown, just so you get a chance at the doily. Nana expects pictures.”

“I’m sure she does,” Syd says. “In that case, I’m definitely going to get to lunch so I can convince her to sleep with me before those pictures hit the public.” 

“Such a player, Syd.”

“What’s the point of being smart _and_ hot if I don’t take advantage of it?” Syd quips. “Enjoy the rest of your spring break, Finn.” 

“See you on Saturday,” Finn says. 

“Saturday,” Syd agrees, and then just before she hangs up, adds “But no doily.” 

Finn laughs as he tucks his phone back into his pocket. Of course there’s going to be a doily.

 

Noah sighs as he finishes mixing up Finn’s post-run smoothie, which looks more appetizing than his first few attempts, and he sets it down at Finn’s place at the table before sitting down himself. 

“I know what my topic today is,” he says to Kurt. “And it involves the word ‘naked’.” 

“I know, baby,” Kurt says. “Maybe save yours for last, then. Mine’s relatively simple.”

“Anything’s simple compared to Finn getting hard and then getting skittish,” Noah says, shaking his head and sighing again as he hears Finn coming down the stairs. 

“You’re first today, darling,” Kurt says when Finn steps into the room. 

“This looks like it has strawberries and pineapple,” Finn says, picking up the smoothie. “So, I think I’d like to try going down to just one Dale and one Michelle a week after this week.”

“What does Dale think?” Kurt asks. “Neither of us really has any professional insight on that.” 

“He says it’s up to me. I’m letting you know so that if you see something that worries you, you can tell me, and I can go back to two Dales for a while,” Finn says.

Noah shrugs and nods, and Kurt nods, too. “We’ll keep that in mind, then. Mine’s just about the Tonys. There’s three different parties we’ve been invited to, afterwards, and I do think we’ll be expected to make some sort of appearance.” 

“Which one is Neil going to be at?” Finn asks.

“Why don’t you call him and find out, and we’ll do that one?” Kurt suggests. 

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll try him around dinner time.”

Kurt nods, then looks at Noah, who sighs. “So how long are we going to act like we’ve never been naked around each other?” 

Finn sets his glass down a little too hard. “You know, now that I’m thinking about it, maybe I should just go ahead and call Neil now,” he says, starting to stand. 

“No,” Kurt says. “No avoiding.”

“The least you owe me is an answer,” Noah says. 

Finn sits back down. “I don’t know, ok? I don’t know.”

“Look, we said we weren’t going to put any pressure on you, but seriously? T-shirts and pajama pants every night? I’m afraid that if I put my hand too far from your shoulders, you’ll jump out of bed, at this rate,” Noah says, frowning at Finn. “There’s a difference between ‘no pressure’ and ‘no progress’.” 

Finn stands up again, pushing his chair in. “I don’t know,” he repeats, picking up his mostly-empty smoothie glass and walking it into the kitchen, then walking back. “I’m not ready, ok?” He walks back towards the kitchen, then turns back towards the table, before seeming to change his mind and walk towards the kitchen again.

“What are you even doing to try to _be_ ready?” Noah asks. “’Cause last I checked you said Dale was about addiction, and I know we haven’t done anything with Michelle. Is it just on the back burner until you think everything else is as good as it’s going to get? Lowest priority?” 

“You’re pacing, Finn,” Kurt says quietly. 

“It’s not my lowest priority!” Finn says. “I just, I don’t know how to—” He breaks off and resumes pacing. 

“Then why aren’t you trying? You don’t know how to whatever, have you talked to anybody? Read anything? Even just _thought_ about it?” Noah says, crossing his arms. “Because it feels like you’re avoiding the idea, even. Avoiding thinking about it, avoiding the idea of it, avoiding us.” 

“I’ve talked to Dale about it! I’m talking to him about it, ok? I’m not just avoiding it.”

“But you are avoiding us. And trying to avoid even talking about it with us.” 

“Noah,” Kurt says softly, putting his hand on Noah’s leg and letting it rest there. 

“It’s true,” Noah says. 

Kurt sighs. “I know. Darling, _please_ sit down.” 

“Ok, ok, I’m sitting,” Finn says, sitting down again and bouncing his leg.

“You’re not even denying it.” Noah sighs. “Is it just us? Do you want to go find some other people or something?” 

“What? No!” Finn says. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

“You don’t seem to want us, either!” 

“I do! I do want you, I’m just not ready yet!”

“And right now it feels like you don’t care if you’re never ready! _T-shirts_ , Finn. In _bed_.” Noah sighs heavily and sits back in his chair. 

“I’m sorry,” Finn says. “I’m just not—”

“Bullshit,” Noah says, interrupting him. “You’re not sorry, ’cause when you’re sorry, you actually do something about it, and you’re not.”

Finn stands up again, and Kurt straightens, though he leaves his hand on Noah’s leg. “No. Don’t you dare, Finn. Sit down.” 

“Fine,” Finn says, sitting. “I’m sitting. I’m sorry.”

“No. We’re not doing it like that,” Noah says. “Don’t just apologize so we sweep everything out of the way and go on. We’ve been doing that for years. You’re not sorry, because if you were sorry, you’d stop trying to avoid the conversation, and you’d sit here and tell me exactly what you were doing so you could at least let us get naked some time in the next month.” 

“I hear it pop!” Finn blurts out, then looks horrified with himself. 

“Huh?” Noah says, startled by the change in subject. “What? There’s no… popcorn?” he guesses. “What are you talking about?” 

“Noah,” Kurt says, and Noah turns to look at Kurt, who has one hand over his mouth. Noah realizes that Kurt was gasping a moment ago, but he still isn’t sure what’s going on. “Noah, he’s talking about my arm.” 

“Your…” Noah trails off and looks at Finn, who is pale and a little shaky. Noah wonders if Finn might even throw up, and he winces at the thought of Finn’s smoothie coming back up. “Okay, now we’re at that telling everybody everything thing, I guess. There was a pop?” he asks, looking at Finn. 

Finn nods. “It was loud, and I _still_ didn’t stop,” he says, looking like he’s about to cry. “But I heard it. I hear it.”

“Take a deep breath,” Noah says, glancing over at Kurt, who looks horrified in a different way from Finn. “Finn. Take a deep breath for us, okay?” He can hear Finn almost hyperventilating, which isn’t going to help any of them for sure. 

Finn takes a slightly deeper breath, still shaky. “When you touch me, when I close my eyes and start to let myself go, I hear it. I hear it.”

Noah exhales, resisting the urge to point out that he wasn’t even on the same floor of the house, and sits up again. Kurt doesn’t say anything, just stares at Finn. “Okay. Okay. That’s a— it’s a different issue. That’s not ‘not ready’.” 

“But I’m not. I’m not ready,” Finn says, and now he is crying. “I’m not ready for you to forgive me. Not for that.”

“That’s our choice,” Kurt says very softly. “Our choice about forgiveness.” 

“Kurt’s right. And maybe this would be easier if the place had let us visit, so we didn’t all bottle stuff up for six weeks,” Noah says. 

Finn shakes his head. “That wasn’t them. That was me. I couldn’t see you. I couldn’t do it.”

Noah feels himself getting cold. “ _You_ couldn’t do it? So you fucking decided for _us_? Because of— what? You couldn’t— _fuck_ you.” 

“I didn’t know you didn’t know. I thought Syd told you.”

“I don’t care, and I’ll fucking yell at Syd later,” Noah says, “but _fuck_ you for keeping us out. Are there any other choices you want to steal from us? From me? Do you want to make all my choices for me?” 

“What if there’s something wrong with me?” Finn asks. “What if there’s just something seriously fucked up with me, and it doesn’t have anything to do with the booze? Huh? Did you think about that? What if I didn’t hurt Kurt because I was drunk? What if’s because that’s just what I am? I hurt _you_ before, too, and I wasn’t drunk then!”

“Then you still let us make our own choices!” Noah yells. “And you know as well as I do that you’ve never done anything I didn’t let you do. How fucking dare you keep us out? You didn’t give us any power.” 

“I’m choosing for me. For _me_!” Finn shouts back at Noah. “I can’t trust myself to touch you, to touch _Kurt_ , if I’m not sure I’m not some kind of monster. That’s _my_ choice.”

“So you hid instead? You hid behind their rules, and now you’ve been hiding behind ‘not ready’ and we were trying to be fucking patient and it turns out you’re just sitting around being scared and not doing a damn thing!” Noah yells. “Do you fucking hate me that much?” 

“Noah,” Kurt says, but when Noah looks at him, Kurt just looks sad and out of his depth, too. 

“Of course I don’t fucking hate you. I love you. If I hated you, I wouldn’t be scared!” Finn says. “I’m trying! I’m talking to Dale, we’re talking about it, but yeah, I’m scared, ok? You’d be scared, too, if you thought that might be what you really were!”

“If you’re so afraid of hurting us, why are you just hurting us in a different way?” Noah sags down, putting his face in his hands. “So fucking stupid. Always last, when things go to shit.” 

“Because I’m not perfect! And I don’t know the answer to this! And if I’m going to fuck things up one way or another, I want it to _not_ be the way that ends with me sending somebody to the fucking ER!” Finn shouts. 

“You’re not even _listening_ to me. It’s not even about that. Why can’t you be honest? Why is everything about protecting how _you_ feel? Is it _ever_ about how I feel, Finn? _Ever_? ’Cause right now it feels like the answer is a big fat no, unless it happens to coincide with what you feel.” 

Kurt still doesn’t say anything, staring at the two of them in turn, and Noah has the feeling he’s just letting Noah and Finn get things out in the open. 

“Then tell me, Noah,” Finn says. “Tell me how you feel! Tell me how you’re ok with what I did, and how much you trust me in bed with Kurt after I dislocated his fucking arm, and how it doesn’t matter to you if it had anything to do with me being drunk or not! Tell me how you feel about all of that!”

“All that tells me is that I’m the fucking last thing you ever think about!” Noah screams. “I’m not allowed to think about me. I’m only supposed to think about what _you_ want to think about! It’s always someone else. I’m going to go get the fucking cat so you can explain to me how the cat’s more important than I am, because I’m pretty sure he is!” 

“If I didn’t fucking care so much about you, why would I care if I hurt you?” Finn screams back. “Why would it fucking matter? When I think about being the kind of person who might hurt you, I want to fucking _die_ , Noah! That is how much I hate myself for even possibly being somebody who could hurt you like that!”

“Wait,” Kurt says suddenly. “Finn, wait.” He looks between Noah and Finn again, this time looking more confused than anything. “Why would you be in the same situation? I know we haven’t really gotten to that, but I didn’t think… I didn’t think the two of you did anything similar.” 

“There’s nothing that needs a safe word in anyone’s mind,” Noah agrees slowly, also looking at Finn. 

“Noah, I couldn’t stop when Kurt told me to stop. I couldn’t stop when _Kurt_ told me,” Finn says, “and, I’m sorry Kurt, Kurt at least started out wanting me to hurt him. What if I do that with you? What if I cross a line with you? What if I hurt you like that?”

“Yeah, ’cause there’s so many lines to cross?” Noah asks. “I don’t even know what you could do too much of. You’ve _never_ done anything I didn’t want. And not even in some kind of pretend way.” 

“That’s not true. You know that’s not true,” Finn says. “I _have_ hurt you. I have done something to you that you didn’t want. And yes, it was a long time ago, but it was only two months ago that I hurt Kurt, so whatever’s wrong with me, it’s still there.”

“I swear, if you’re talking about some kind of fucking fistfight in ninth grade or something, I _am_ going to deck you,” Noah says. “What are you even talking about?” 

“Before Eliza. That fight at your apartment. What I did to you then.”

Noah stares at Finn for a moment before he realizes what Finn’s talking about. “The time we proved I was right about Brokeback? _That_?” 

“I have no idea what that means. I’m talking about the time I pretty much raped you, Noah,” Finn says. “I know you remember that. You didn’t talk to me for a month. Maybe you shouldn’t have ever started again.”

“The spit. Yeah. When I didn’t talk to you for a month because of fucking _her_ , and how once again, everyone else was more important than me,” Noah says. “But the _sex_ was consensual.” 

“No it wasn’t,” Finn insists. “Don’t do that. Don’t edit the past to make me feel better. I forced you against a table. I hurt you. I said horrible things to you. You didn’t want that.”

“You needed it, and I was willing to give it to you. Believe me, if I was going to edit the past, I _would_ have made it about the sex, because that hurts a lot fucking less!” 

“But I thought you didn’t want it. I thought I was forcing you. Isn’t that the same thing? I was _willing_ to hurt you, and fifteen years later, I was willing to hurt Kurt.”

“Do you want to know how you’ve hurt me? Is that what you want? For me to list everything, so you can wallow in it?” Noah demands. “Because I can guarantee you that the list is pretty fucking different from your internal narrative. And maybe you should let _me_ decide what’s hurt me.”

Kurt exhales, still watching Noah and Finn, and looks down at something on his phone, but he doesn’t say anything, and Noah turns back to Finn. 

“Maybe you should list it all. Maybe I need to hear it. Maybe I should hear it,” Finn says. 

“Fine. Let’s start way, way back. The fucking draft, ’cause money and Mommy were more important than me. _Her_ , because somehow she was more important than me. That time you skipped out on anything of any importance to me for months. That day you were talking about, when you told me _not to talk badly about her_. Deciding we couldn’t see you for six weeks. _Those_ are the fucking things that have hurt me. Not your bullshit excuses about the very very slim possibility that you could accidentally cause an injury,” Noah says firmly. “I’m not saying that _you_ don’t need to deal with it. But don’t tell me you _have_ hurt me while denying the ways you actually did.” 

Finn sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Ok,” he says quietly. “You’re right.”

“Uh. About what part?” Noah asks. 

Finn’s shoulders slump even more. “All of it. I’m a sack of shit and I haven’t prioritized you enough. I thought I was protecting you, but I clearly fucked that up, too, and I obviously have a pattern of fucking it up.”

“You’re not a sack of shit,” Noah says. “You’re not a sack of shit, and I love you, but I need you to understand what really hurts me. Not what you think should or shouldn’t be important to me.” 

“Ok,” Finn says. 

“And that’s probably something to put on the agenda for another day,” Noah says, exhaling heavily. “But I don’t think you’d hurt me physically. In case that wasn’t clear.” 

“Oh, that much was clear,” Kurt mutters, shaking his head a little. “Darling?” he says a little louder. “You’re shaking.” 

Finn looks down at his hands, looking surprised to see they are, in fact, shaking. “Yeah,” he says. “Well. You want me to talk and be honest, right?”

“That’s the goal for all of us, yeah,” Noah says. 

“What I want right now is to see if there’s any booze left in this house that you didn’t find and drink it,” Finn says.

“Doubtful. Noah was very thorough,” Kurt says. 

“Coffee? Cigarette?” Noah says. 

“You don’t like it when I smoke.”

“I’d rather you stop shaking and not have a drink.”

“Maybe I’ll just go lie d—shit.” Finn sighs. “I don’t even know where I can lie down.”

“Which is another thing for the agenda, I guess.” 

“I have a list,” Kurt admits. “Just have a cigarette, Finn. There are far, far worse things that could happen right now, and one of them is leaving this conversation in complete limbo, which is what would happen if you went to lie down.” 

“Ok,” Finn says. He stands again, pats his pocket, and walks toward the door out to the courtyard. Before he opens it, he says, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Noah drops his head onto the table, sighing a few times before he hears Kurt shifting. “It’s probably good to take a breather,” Kurt says quietly. 

“I just wanted him to see,” Noah says. “It’s okay if that’s what he’s afraid of. Not okay, you know what I mean. But he’s never seemed to understand how much other stuff hurts, too.” 

“I think he understood,” Kurt says. 

“I hope so, ’cause most of that I don’t really want to talk about again.” Noah sighs again before straightening. “Fuck, being responsible adults who communicate is really hard work.” 

Kurt snorts. “Yes, well, that’s also true.” 

“I guess it’s selfish, worrying about the physical stuff. But it’s harder to have these discussions without that connection,” Noah admits. “And I know we all have to be selfish a little bit. I don’t know what the answer is.” 

“I don’t either, entirely,” Kurt says. “Maybe Finn, or maybe all three of us, needs to see an additional therapist, too.” 

“Yeah. Maybe so,” Noah says, tilting his head back. Finn’s been outside for longer than one cigarette, but since the courtyard only has one entrance and exit, it’s not like Finn could have gone somewhere else to avoid the conversation. 

“We definitely need to talk to Michelle about doing some sessions with just two of us at a time, too,” Kurt says. “This is so hard.” 

“Yeah. It is.” Noah pauses. “It’s hard, but it’s weird. I feel like I always thought… don’t push too hard. Be grateful for what we have. You know? And now, well, if anyone was going to leave, they would have already. All three of us are all in.” 

“Yeah. We’re all in,” Kurt agrees softly. “It’s just not a quick fix.” 

“Never has been, really.” 

The door from the courtyard squeaks as it swings open, and Finn walks back into the living room, looking a little calmer, at least. The first thing he does is go to the sink and wash his hands, but then he walks back in and sits down again. 

“Sorry. I know I was out there awhile,” he says. 

“Better, though?” Kurt asks. 

Finn nods. “I called Dale. We went over a few things. I smoked more than one cigarette.”

“Out of everything, the number of cigarettes is down below which flowers the city’s planting in the Park,” Noah says. 

“That was one of the things I made a note about, though,” Kurt says. “If Dale’s primarily an addiction counselor, is he really the best person to be using about sex? Because unless you’re just disregarding what he’s saying, I can’t say that we can see any effect at all.” 

“I’ve been disregarding some of it, yeah, which he pointed out to me,” Finn admits. “But… there has been an effect. When I came home, I really was prepared to sleep somewhere else. I didn’t know if I could let myself kiss you. I didn’t know if I could trust myself to be in bed with you. I can, though. I know it doesn’t feel like progress, but from my end, it is.”

“Even if that’s progress, you’ve stalled there for two weeks,” Noah says. “Like I said to Kurt, maybe it’s selfish of me, but fuck it. There it is. There’s the _one_ thing I’m going to be selfish about.” 

“Ok,” Finn says. 

“So is Kurt right?” Noah asks. “Is it that this isn’t Dale’s area, or is it on you not doing stuff?” 

“It’s not like Dale or anybody else is going to tell me shit I don’t already say to my own clients,” Finn says, frowning. 

“Then what do we need to actually _do_? Waiting isn’t doing anything. I don’t know, okay? But if it’s not Dale, what’s going to change things?” 

“I guess I have to stop expecting you to do things that aren’t your responsibility to do,” Finn says. “Because I know what I’ve been doing, it’s— I’m expecting you to give me permission to trust myself again, but that’s not something you can do, and it’s not something that’s fair for me to ask you. And so yeah, maybe I’m just a coward. I’m afraid if I trust myself, I’m going to fuck up again, or I’m going to find out that no, it really wasn’t the drinking, it’s just that I’m too fucked up to be good enough for you.”

Noah sighs heavily. “So we’re at one of those impasses? There’s nothing I can do, there’s nothing you’re willing to do, so… what happens?” 

“Dale says—and I know he’s right, ok?—that the only way I’m going to be able to find out if it was the drinking or just me is to give myself permission to try again,” Finn says. He runs his hand over his hair and down his face. “And I keep thinking maybe we could start small, start slow, but when did we ever do small or slow? That’s not ever been us. It’s never been enough to have just a little. We never waited or went slow.”

“Basically, _I_ need another therapist, then,” Noah says. “So I can figure out how to deal with never having sex with you again.” 

Finn looks like someone slapped him across face. “I don’t think this is getting anywhere, Noah,” Kurt says, and Noah shrugs. 

“Finn, I love you. And I’ll figure it out. But I don’t hear any willingness to figure it out. I don’t hear you acting like you want to,” Noah says. “So I don’t know what else to do. I _don’t know_.” 

“I don’t know either,” Finn says. “I don’t know how to take little steps. I don’t know how to do that.”

“Then we have to figure that out. If that’s—” Noah stops and swallows. “If it’s something you want to figure out.” 

“It is. I miss you so much, Noah. And if I didn’t know that you and Kurt at least are still able to be together, maybe I could’ve just pretended I was ok. Maybe I should’ve. Maybe that _is_ the secret I should’ve kept,” Finn says. “Because the truth isn’t helping anybody.”

“It would have found its way out somehow,” Kurt says. “And that would have been its own awful thing.”

“K’s right,” Noah says, rubbing his hands over his face and trying to suppress the surge of guilt about the nights he and Kurt weren’t even in the same bed. Eventually, yeah, they’ll need to tell Finn that, too, but he knows this isn’t the right moment. “Okay. And I get that you’re not going to make progress every twenty-four hours or anything. But I need— I need to feel wanted.” 

“I do want you,” Finn says. “Noah. I want you. I want Kurt. I’m just, I’m _scared_.” 

“Yeah. I hear what you’re saying. But it just took a hell of a long time for you to even say you want us. I’m not a mindreader,” Noah says, exhaling loudly. 

“I’m sorry. And before you tell me I’m not, I _am_ sorry, and I’ll try harder,” Finn says. 

“Okay.” Noah runs his hands through his hair and sits back. “Okay.” It’s still something that Noah knows they’ll probably have to revisit, but maybe they’re really through the worst of it. 

Most of the rest of the day is a series of appointments, mostly for the kids, even though it’s Tuesday, and after homework and dinner, everyone gets into pajamas at the same time, which seems to be their somewhat odd new ritual. Fiver falls asleep, Nova looks half-asleep before her lamp is out, the Peas probably climbed into one bed as soon as the door was closed, and Eliza tells them good night even though she has a little more homework to finish first. 

It takes the three of them about ten minutes to finish picking up on the main level, and then they head upstairs, none of them saying anything. Trying to figure out small steps sounded like a good idea in the middle of the morning, but Noah doesn’t know how in the world to actually do it, not the way things are. 

Kurt goes to brush his teeth, or at least that’s what he says; Noah knows that Kurt has been suspiciously devoted to dental hygiene in the last two or three years, and Noah is pretty sure it’s actually some kind of anti-aging regimen that he doesn’t want to admit to. Noah doesn’t call him on it, though, because the actual exception to the secrets rule is personal grooming. Noah shakes his head a little and sits down on the edge of the bed, putting his phone down on the table before looking up at Finn. 

Finn is staring at Noah intensely, and as soon as Noah makes eye contact, Finn slowly and deliberately starts to pull his t-shirt up and off, letting it drop to the ground by his feet. 

“You sure?” Noah asks quietly. 

Finn nods. “I love you. I want you. I hope this is a big enough step tonight.”

“I love you, too.” Noah slowly takes his own t-shirt off, then holds his hand out towards Finn. “I’m pretty sure I always have.” 

Finn puts his hand in Noah’s, stepping close to the bed. “I know I always have. I know I always will, too.”

“Lie down with me?” 

Finn smiles and sits down next to Noah, then slides to the middle of the bed, his hand still holding Noah’s. He tugs Noah towards him, positioning them so Finn is spooned behind Noah, with their clasped hands pressed to the middle of Noah’s chest. Finn presses a soft kiss to the side of Noah’s neck.

“I love you so much,” Finn whispers. 

Noah nods and closes his eyes, relaxing against Finn, and he can feel tension flowing out of him, tension he hadn’t really registered having. “I love you. I love you. And this feels so good. You’re so warm.” 

“This does feel good,” Finn says, kissing Noah’s neck again, then nuzzling his ear, nipping at it lightly. 

“You know, as much as I complain about it,” Noah admits, “I did kind of miss you messing with the curls.” 

“Yeah?” Finn asks. He releases Noah’s hand, dragging his own hand across Noah’s chest and then up to his hair, plucking at one of the curls. “Like that?”

“Mayyybe,” Noah says, stretching the word out. “Making me like something that used to be irritating.” 

Finn buries his fingers in Noah’s hair, rubbing his head. “I’m the worst like that.”

“Yeah, you are,” Noah agrees, craning his head up to look over his shoulder at Finn. “I’m doomed, now. You’re just going to be making them go boing all the time.” 

“I like making them go boing,” Finn says, though he slides his hand out of Noah’s hair, running it along Noah’s cheek and around to gently cradle his face, pulling it towards Finn’s. The first kiss is soft and closed-lipped, but after a brief pause, Finn kisses Noah again, his mouth opening against Noah’s and his tongue pressing along Noah’s. 

Noah parts his lips, sighing a little into the kiss, and he pushes his face into Finn’s hand with a little pressure. Finn’s thumb strokes Noah’s chin, then he starts sliding his hand down Noah’s throat, back to his chest, where he spreads his fingers to cover as much of Noah’s chest as possible. 

The angle of his neck is very slightly awkward, but Noah doesn’t really care, shifting as close as he can to Finn without breaking the kiss. The immediate effect isn’t a change in the angle his neck is at, but he does register that Finn’s cock is pressed against his ass. It does make him feel better, and he thinks briefly that freezing in that position isn’t the worst idea he’s ever had, just so the feeling doesn’t change. 

Eventually, his neck demands that they stop kissing for at least a few moments, and Noah grins at Finn. Finn smiles back and runs his fingers along Noah’s chest in small circles. 

“Hello, my loves,” Kurt says, and Noah looks to see Kurt walking towards the bed, smiling at them. He lies down on the other side of Finn, looking pleased. 

“Hey,” Finn says. “Little step.”

“Yes,” Kurt agrees, and Noah nods, dropping his head again but leaving the rest of his body against Finn’s. “All the steps are important.” 

“I’m trying,” Finn says. 

“We know, darling,” Kurt says softly. “We’re still so glad you’re here.” 

“I’m so happy I’m home,” Finn says. “I’m sorry I’m still so— I’m just sorry.”

“We’ll figure it all out. Small steps, big ones, whatever it takes,” Kurt says. 

Finn kisses Noah’s neck one more time before rolling towards Kurt and draping an arm over him. Noah shifts a moment later, rolling towards Finn and reversing their earlier position. He presses himself up against Finn’s back, a little cautiously when his own cock hits against Finn’s ass. Finn makes a slightly muffled moan, his mouth pressed against Kurt’s, and Noah smiles to himself before kissing the back of Finn’s neck. 

The three of them stay like that for a few minutes, Noah kissing Finn’s neck and shoulders with his hand on Finn’s side. He doesn’t think anything specifically changes, but suddenly Finn flinches, letting out a small sound of alarm as he starts to pull away from Kurt. 

“Everyone’s fine,” Noah says softly between kisses, sliding his hand up and down Finn’s side. “We’re all fine.” 

“ _You_ ’re fine,” Kurt adds. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He kisses Finn’s cheek, and Noah can see Kurt’s hand resting on Finn’s collarbone. 

“It’s ok?” Finn repeats. 

“It’s okay,” Noah says, nodding his head slightly. “We’re right here with you. We love you. We’re all okay.” 

“I could hear it,” Finn says. “I could feel it. I didn’t stop. Why didn’t I stop?”

“Because you were drunk,” Kurt says, his voice calm. “You couldn’t put together what it meant. That’s why. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Noah adds. 

“I’m so sorry,” Finn says, his shoulders starting to shake and curl forward. 

“We know,” Noah says, kissing Finn’s shoulders again, over and over. “We know, darling. We love you.”

“Everyone’s fine,” Kurt says softly. 

Finn nods, pulling Kurt against him and pushing back against Noah. “We’re not going anywhere,” Noah says. 

“I love you,” Kurt whispers. “I trust you. I know you.” 

“I love you both so much,” Finn says. “Can we stay like this?”

“Seems like a good idea to me,” Noah says. 

“With the addition of a blanket,” Kurt says, already reaching down to pull one over them. “It’s only April!” 

“Love you,” Finn says, running his hand down Kurt’s arm and leaning back against Noah. 

“Love you, too,” Noah says, putting his face against Finn’s neck. “We’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“Ok,” Finn says, his body relaxing between them. “Ok.”

 

“I told you I knew whose asses were kicked,” Noah says smugly as the Yankees score two runs in the third inning. 

“Hey, we’ve still got six more innings, and it’s only game two,” Finn says. “We’ve got time to rally.”

“Yeah, and I could decide to skip getting bacon on my burger tomorrow, but it’s not going to happen,” Noah says. 

“The Mets are a second-half-of-series kind of team,” Finn says, smiling at Noah, who does at least seem more relaxed than he has since Finn got out of rehab.

Noah laughs. “I didn’t know that _was_ a type of team. I guess that explains why they crashed and burned in the World Series a few years ago? They couldn’t get to the second half of the series?” 

“Shut up, asshole. Junior Ortiz broke his ankle in game one. That would throw any team off!”

“Uh-huh,” Noah says doubtfully. “Ready for our nacho fry bucket?”

“The nacho fry bucket is the high point of any Yankees game,” Finn says. 

“If you’d just change allegiances, you wouldn’t feel that way,” Noah says, starting to stand up. 

Finn laughs and catches Noah by the front of his jersey, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Noah startles slightly before starting to kiss back, and when he straightens, he grins at Finn. 

“I thought you wanted that bucket,” he says teasingly. 

Finn shrugs and grins back at Noah. “Guess something else took priority.”

“Not complaining,” Noah says, brushing his hand over Finn’s shoulder. He slides out of the row, looking both smug and pleased. 

Even though they’re still making slow progress at night, they aren’t kissing very much outside of the bedroom. They hold hands, and they’ll sit with their arms around each other, but Finn still has a hard time initiating physical contact. He doesn’t feel like he deserves the affection. Being at a baseball game with Noah is the most normal Finn has felt in months, though, and he’s glad he hadn’t stopped himself from kissing Noah. 

When Noah returns, balancing the nacho fry bucket in one hand, he still looks a little smug, and he grins at Finn as he sits down. “Bucket, forks, napkins, and wipe packets,” he says, putting the bucket on their legs. “And extra jalapeños.” 

“Awesome!” Finn leans over and kisses Noah’s neck. “Extra spicy.”

“Yep,” Noah says, his grin widening again. “I’m going to call the MLB office and offer some money so they’ll schedule more subway series.” 

“Oh yeah?” Finn asks, kissing another spot on Noah’s neck.

“Mmmhmm,” Noah says, tilting his head to the side. “I can offer them some music, too, if the money’s not enough. Think they’d go for it?” 

“Maybe,” Finn says. He keeps kissing Noah’s neck, moving closer to his ear. “Worth a try.”

“Exactly,” Noah says, sounding a little out of it. 

Something must happen on the field, because suddenly the crowd around them gets very loud, cheering and yelling. Finn pulls away from Noah’s neck with a final kiss.

“We should at least pretend to watch the game,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, probably,” Noah says with a happy little sigh, and he leans his head onto Finn’s shoulder as they start working on the nacho fry bucket. 

The bucket takes them two innings to finish, and by that point, even the wipes aren’t enough. 

“Hit the bathroom and clean up?” Finn asks.

“Yeah, I think we hit ‘necessity’ on the messiness level,” Noah agrees. “This one was even a little short on the beef.” 

“You can bring that up when you talk to them about the extra subway series.”

“I’ll throw in an extra few measures,” Noah says as they stand up. “Maybe a swing variation on ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame’?”

“Sure, if that’s what it takes,” Finn says. They walk up the stairs towards the bathroom, where they wash the nacho bucket off their hands. On their walk back to the stairs, Finn decides that what he really wants is to pin Noah against the wall and make out with him, so he goes with that, guiding Noah to the wall with one hand on his chest and the other on his hip.

“Yeah, definitely calling,” Noah says, grinning at Finn. 

“Yeah?” Finn says. It’s not a very hard pin against the wall, and Noah could easily get away if he wanted to, but he doesn’t seem to want to. Finn presses his body against Noah’s and kisses him briefly, then leans away slightly.

“Yeah,” Noah says, putting his hands on Finn’s waist and leaning his head back to look up at Finn. “I think it’d be fun.” 

“Yeah. Me, too,” Finn says. He puts his mouth on Noah’s again, kissing hard and pressing his body more firmly against Noah’s. Noah’s hands move around to Finn’s back, and as they kiss, Noah pulls Finn closer. Finn grinds against Noah once, still kissing, to see what he’ll do.

Noah opens his mouth wider under Finn’s lips and grinds back, his arms tightening around Finn. Finn grinds a little harder, feeling Noah’s cock press against his through their jeans. Finn braces one of his arms against the wall next to Noah, holding Noah by the hip and keeping him close with the other hand. 

Noah keeps kissing Finn, hard and somewhat desperately, and his hands move up and down Finn’s back while they grind. They make out for close to ten minutes before Finn hears someone clearing his throat next to them. Finn pulls away from Noah and looks at the security guard standing next to them, eyebrows raised.

“Uh. Back to our seats?” Finn asks.

“Yes, that would be a good idea,” the security guard says. 

“Oops,” Noah says, not sounding remotely sorry, and he grins at the security guard. 

The security guard shakes his head and points towards the stairs down to their seats. Finn takes a step back, grabbing Noah’s hand and leading him towards the stairs. When they get back down to their seats, Finn puts his arm around Noah’s shoulder, and Noah shifts his weight, pressing against Finn’s side as much as he can.

They watch the game for another inning before Noah looks up at Finn, a somewhat guilty look on his face. 

“What is it?” Finn asks. 

Noah sighs a little. “Just… there’s something you should know. About while you were gone.” 

“Ok,” Finn says. “Is it bad?”

“Not bad in the sense that it’s over, but it wasn’t good,” Noah says. “You weren’t exactly right about Kurt and I still being able to be together, but not probably for the reasons you think. I, uh. Before we started sleeping downstairs, I slept down there for a few nights.” 

“Oh, Noah,” Finn says, some of the sadness and feelings of failure pressing down on him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t,” Noah says. “It was all on Kurt and I. Michelle was right, that K and I had been thinking ‘working together’ counted as ‘time together’. And it doesn’t, really. We’d all gotten on autopilot to some extent, but Kurt and I had really dropped the ball. That’s on us.” 

“But the shit with me didn’t help,” Finn points out. 

Noah looks thoughtful for a moment, then shakes his head. “It would have just gotten worse, otherwise. At least this way, we caught it more quickly, you know? And the avoidance was all _me_.” 

Finn sighs and pulls Noah close again. “But you guys got better. You seem better.”

“Yeah. We did. Which is why I know we all can,” Noah says. “And probably why I reacted the way I did about avoiding things, too.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says, nodding. He leans his head to rest on top of Noah’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Noah pauses. “Even if this does make, what, twelve years in a row now that a security guard’s interrupted us?” 

“If the Mets win one, I say we go for twice in one year,” Finn says. 

Noah laughs. “I see what you’re trying to do there. I’m still not rooting for the Mets, asshole.” 

“It was worth a shot, asshole.”

 

Kurt slides his arm around Finn’s as the two of them leave the theatre, turning left towards the restaurant. “I don’t think I would have thought to set a Shakespearean play in the early 1960s, but they made it work, didn’t they?” 

“I liked it, anyway,” Finn says. “I think it’s one of the strangest plays we’ve seen, though.”

“Which is probably why it’s well-settled into an off-off-Broadway run,” Kurt says a little wryly. “You didn’t want to borrow any of their costumes?” 

“Even if they had one in my size, I don’t think I could pull that off.”

“Hmm, maybe not,” Kurt concedes. “There’s another play running that’s set in the 1920s. Maybe one of those costumes?”

“You really want to see in me a pair of high-waisted suit pants?” Finn asks. “And those deep pleats? Pretty sure you told me back in college that I’m not allowed to wear pleated-front pants.”

Kurt flinches a little at ‘allowed’, but tries not to let on, since Finn wasn’t looking directly at him. “Halloween, maybe, and I was thinking more about the suspenders.” 

“Think we can convince Noah to be a flapper?”

Kurt laughs. “He’d probably tell us that he refuses to wax his legs.” 

“I guess he had to draw the line somewhere,” Finn says. 

“It would be convenient, though. We could make him straighten his curls for the evening, and I bet they’d almost be long enough for a very short bob,” Kurt says with another laugh. 

“He’s probably going to tell us we should stop going to period pieces,” Finn says. “We come back with too many good ideas.”

“We’ll just have to come up with a good reward,” Kurt says without really thinking about it. 

“Yeah,” Finn says, and even though he laughs, his voice sounds distant. 

Kurt flinches a little again, and when they cross the street, he slides his hand down Finn’s arm and takes Finn’s hand. “I love you, darling.” 

“I love you, too, Kurt,” Finn says. 

Finn hasn’t called Kurt ‘bossofme’ even once since he got back home, which Kurt mostly understands. He isn’t sure either of them can really go back to it, at least not anytime soon, but he does miss it, a little bit. 

“We can’t tell Hannah we’re eating here,” Kurt says when they reach the restaurant. “She insists that casseroles is a competing concept to her ‘kosher gourmet Midwestern fusion’.” 

“Are you kidding? I never tell Hannah _anywhere_ we eat,” Finn says. “As far as she knows, we’re surviving off leftovers from her place.”

“I think we’re allowed takeout from a limited number of places. Oh, and a few steak places,” Kurt says, suppressing a laugh. 

“I’m still never mentioning it. That’s between her and Noah.”

“Probably wise.” The two of them are taken to a table, and Kurt looks over the menu before glancing up with a smile. “Or we can let Nana handle her.” 

“When all else fails, pass the buck to Nana?” Finn asks.

“She _is_ both a master at kvetching and the original badass,” Kurt points out. “And it nicely gets things off our plates.” 

“I think Charlie’s giving Nana a run for her kvetching money, though.”

“Preparing to name the heir to the crown, I’m sure,” Kurt says. “I think I’ll try the chicken lasagna one. What about you?” 

“I was thinking about the one with the eggplant. Eating eggplant someplace other than Hannah’s make me feel like I’m pulling one over on her,” Finn says. 

“That’s because you are,” Kurt agrees. The server comes and takes their orders, including a pop for each of them, and Kurt takes a moment to look around the restaurant. He’d purposely chosen it for the very limited drink menu, just three beers, a house red, and a house white. There aren’t many restaurants in New York with seating and absolutely no alcohol, which made compromise about the best he could do. 

“We could almost walk home from here,” Kurt says after the server leaves. “If you wanted to.” 

“I wouldn’t mind a long walk,” Finn says. “It’s nice out tonight.”

“Just nice out?” Kurt asks. “Not the company?” 

“Yeah, but even if the company’s great, the company wouldn’t like a long walk in the cold,” Finn says, smiling at Kurt. 

“Yes, well, while true, I do have a bit of extra insulation at the moment,” Kurt says, making a face. 

“Noah and I like your chubby cheeks,” Finn teases, running one fingertip along Kurt’s face. 

Kurt wrinkles his nose, not moving otherwise, and trying to somehow make Finn’s finger stay there. “Are you going to try to make me eat an entire dessert on my own?” 

“I might also get one for myself that I know you’ll want a couple bites of.”

“So sneaky, darling. Are you trying to make me have to buy new swimsuits?” 

“I’m not saying yes, because I don’t want you to get mad at me,” Finn says, moving his finger along Kurt’s cheek again. “But I’m not saying no, because we promised no more secrets.”

Kurt sighs dramatically. “I don’t think it’s a secret that you two like certain visuals.” 

“If you’re talking about how much we like your ass in your swimsuits, then yeah.”

“And now you’ve decided you’d like it even better if you keep feeding me desserts?” 

Finn grins. “There’d be a little more to like, that way.”

“I feel like Hansel and Gretel, being fattened up,” Kurt says, but he smiles back at Finn. 

“Are you afraid I’m going to eat you up?” Finn asks, then immediately looks flustered, moving his hand from Kurt’s face to rearrange the napkin across his own lap. 

Kurt stretches his arm towards Finn, palm up. “I wouldn’t be afraid,” he says very softly. Finn puts his hand on top of Kurt’s, but doesn’t look up at him.

“I might be,” Finn says quietly.

“Then we’ll get there eventually, and make sure no one is,” Kurt says. “Do you want to know what I think, though?” Finn nods. “I think the fact that you _are_ afraid is what’s telling, and I think it means that you don’t need to be.” 

“I hurt you,” Finn says. “Even if you’re not mad at me about it, I am. I don’t— I can’t trust myself yet.”

“I know,” Kurt says, voice still soft. “Can I tell you a little story?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says.

“Most of the time, and I can think of a few times specifically, my line wasn’t really based on how far I could go.” Kurt exhales slowly. “I knew there were outcomes _you_ wouldn’t be okay with, no matter how much I wanted them or asked for them. Yes, I was hurt, and yes, we should have been using a safe word, and no, we shouldn’t have been in that scenario with you or, frankly, me drunk. But it also wasn’t anything worse than things I’ve thought about asking you for. And I want you to be able to trust yourself again, and me.” 

“How?” Finn asks. “I don’t know how I can ever trust myself again, especially not to do anything like that.”

“I don’t know the intermediate steps,” Kurt admits. “But I do know that eventually we have to actually _discuss_ our limits. Not make assumptions for each other, or ignore it altogether.” 

“I know. I’m just—”

“Not ready,” Kurt finishes. “I know. I’m not asking you to be ready right now, darling, but I don’t want us to not think about it in the interim. Making a plan isn’t the same as executing the plan.” 

“Ok,” Finn says. “I don’t know how to even start making a plan.”

“Maybe that’s the sort of thing we should ask Michelle when the two of us go?” Kurt suggests. “I don’t entirely know either.” 

“At an appointment without Noah, right?” Finn asks. 

“I don’t think he’d be very interested in the details, no,” Kurt says. “But like he’s said, he’s not totally sticking his head in the sand now.” 

“I don’t know when I’ll be able to do that again. I don’t know _if_ I’ll be able to.”

“I know. I know, darling. But I don’t think that summarily eliminating it is per se what we need to do, either,” Kurt says. He doesn’t really know if there’s anything out there that would tell them how it ‘should’ happen, either, but something tells him that if they ignore it for a year or more, it wouldn’t be a good thing. 

“I want to give you what you want. I want to make you happy. I like giving you the things you need,” Finn says, sounding slightly panicky. 

“ _You_ make me happy. I know we’re still finding our footing, so to speak. It’s okay. I just don’t want us to ignore things,” Kurt says as soothingly as he can, and he squeezes Finn’s hand. “Okay?” 

“Ok,” Finn says. “I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. I know this isn’t going to be a perfect straight line,” Kurt says. “I love you. That’s what I need. You.” 

“I feel like I’m taking too long. I know you’re patient, but I just feel like I don’t know how to get there,” Finn says.

“I think we’re dealing with one of those things that there’s not a written guide for,” Kurt says with a slight amount of chagrin. “It would make it easier, but we’ll just make things up as we go. You’re not taking too long.” Kurt exhales a little. “Things between you and I are just going to take longer.” 

“I’m sorry, Kurt. I’m sorry,” Finn says, putting his other hand on Kurt’s, too, so he’s holding Kurt’s hand between his. 

“I know. We’ll be okay, Finn. I know we will.” 

 

In theory, the kids are all settled in for the night before Kurt and Finn leave for their play, but the only one who’s actually asleep is Fiver, so Noah leaves the doors to the stairs open and sits in the living room with the volume on the television turned low. The kids are seeming to readjust, but there’s still some issues. Fiver has the least issues, because she’s already having fewer accidents and has stopped announcing ‘My Dad in my home!’ every time she sees Finn. Nova’s clingy but less sad, and Noah is pretty sure that with the therapy continuing, both of the younger girls will be doing really well by the end of the summer. 

Charlie’s not throwing the same extraneous number of tantrums, which is a relief, but she does panic whenever Finn leaves, even if it’s just to go to the deli or the store for a few minutes. Harvey’s still extra-defensive of Charlie, but that’s also a matter of degree. 

Eliza, on the surface, seems to be doing the best, though Noah can see the lingering guilt, and that’s just going to take time. Finn’s too nice of an ex, in that he carefully doesn’t say anything bad about Eliza and Charlie’s mom, but sometimes Noah thinks that they’d all be better off if Rachel’s faults were laid a little more bare and out in the open. 

Rachel’s messed with their family enough that Noah feels completely justified in making the phone calls he’s made recently. Sure, they’d answered fellow producers’ questions about Rachel honestly in the past, but they had waited for productions to come to them. Now, though, Noah’s quietly taking note of productions having auditions and the overall theatre community gossip. Rachel, according to what he can find, has auditioned for three different shows in the last few weeks, and Noah has called each of them, suggesting that they probably don’t want to hire Rachel Berry. Not bad-mouthing most people for several years has come in handy, because they take Noah’s points seriously, and he knows for sure that two of the productions have already decided on other actresses. He expects the third one to do so soon, and slowly, between he and Kurt, Rachel will find it difficult to get a job in New York. 

All they can do for Eliza, though, is keep taking her to therapy and being honest with her up to a point. Noah tries to make sure the two of them are down in the studio at the same time regularly, if not every day, but that’s usually just commiserating over how neither of them understands why someone would choose a flute out of all the instruments as something to specialize in. 

Sitting in the living room while Kurt and Finn go on a date feels familiar in a good way. It’s a balance between all of them getting dates as couples and getting time with the three of them and with the kids, but Noah’s pretty sure that the dates and having to prioritize each other is something that they desperately needed. Five kids is a lot, and their careers are a lot, but their new routines feel a lot like when they first moved in. 

The only difference is the amount of sex, and Noah had tried to figure out exactly what the pattern of kissing and grinding felt like for a few days before it had hit him. He and Kurt had had, years earlier, weeks of slowly ramping up, but they had jumped right to sex with Finn. Even the weeks between the first time and prom hadn’t been anything but what in retrospect Noah labels unintentional and sometimes awkward flirting and possessiveness, and within a week of prom, they’d been having sex again. 

Going slow had never been part of the equation with the three of them, and while Noah wouldn’t go back and try to force three eighteen year olds to slow down, he’s trying to look at what they’re doing _now_ with Finn through that lens. Of course, now they’re more worried about their kids or security guards, not teachers or parents, but there are still some similarities. 

Noah changes the channel at the hour, because there’s no way he’s watching a dramality about rehab, and five minutes into _Lubyanka_ , he hears footsteps coming down the stairs. 

“Papa?” Charlie’s voice calls softly from the doorway.

“Can’t sleep, Char?” Noah asks, muting the volume on the television. 

“Is Dad back yet?”

“C’mere,” Noah says. “Dad and Daddy are at a play, and then they’re going to eat, just like we told you earlier. It’ll be a little while still before they’re back.” 

“What if Daddy changes his mind and takes Dad back to where he was when he was gone?” Charlie asks. “They might have a fight, and then Daddy might take him back there.”

Noah sighs. “Charlie-girl, I know you know that Daddy isn’t the one who took him there, and I know you know Daddy isn’t going to take Dad anywhere.” He opens his arms and gestures for her. Charlie sits down close to him on the sofa and puts her arms around his waist.

“What if Dad wants to go back and Daddy can’t stop him?” she asks. 

“Your Dad made a choice to go because it was something he needed to do, not something he wanted to do,” Noah says. “He doesn’t need to go back, so he won’t. Didn’t Dad promise you that he’d see you at breakfast?” 

Charlie nods, but her brow still furrows, just like Finn’s does when he’s worried. “What if he accidentally drinks some of Daddy’s wine? Will he have to go back then?”

“No,” Noah says, trying not to cringe. “He won’t do anything that makes him have to go back, even accidentally.” He’s not surprised that Charlie’s pieced that much together, given the circumstances, but he’s not sure exactly what she’s comprehending correctly. “Dad said he’d see you at breakfast, so he will.” 

“Well, but Dougal in our class, he’s allergic to tree nuts, and he accidentally ate some of Amal’s almond butter toast, and then his face swelled up and they had to use the happy pen, and then he had to go in the ambulance!” Charlie says, all in one breath. 

“Oh, okay,” Noah says, shaking his head a little. “It’s not like an allergy, Char. It wouldn’t be a great thing, but something accidental wouldn’t mean he has to go back. Okay?” 

“Okay. You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Do you want to go back upstairs, or do you want to lie down with me down here?” 

“Can I stay up until Dad and Daddy get home?” Charlie asks. “I’ll be quiet.”

“You can try,” Noah says, attempting not to sound too amused as he shakes one of the throw blankets over her. She curls up quietly, and Noah turns the volume back on, a little lower than before. 

Five or so minutes pass before another set of footsteps comes down the stairs, and Noah isn’t surprised when he hears Harvey call out. “Papa? Charlie?” 

“She’s in here, Harv,” Noah calls back. Harvey comes in and glances at the television, then Charlie, and nods before climbing onto the sofa beside Charlie. Charlie lifts the throw blanket up a little, and Harvey moves underneath it, curling up around Charlie, even though Charlie’s actually taller. 

When Noah looks at them again during the next commercial break, both of them are asleep, Harvey’s head using Charlie’s shoulder as a pillow, and they remind Noah of how he and Finn would curl up for years. Not as long at Finn’s house, but for a few years later at his house, and as soon as Finn had been more than an inch taller, Noah had started using Finn’s shoulder as a pillow. Somewhere there’s even a picture that Rina took, around 2003 or so, and that makes Noah pull out his phone and take a few quiet pictures. 

Noah continues switching channels at the end of each show, the Peas sleeping on the sofa next to him, until he hears the door open. He turns the television off mid–late night monologue and slowly stands up, but the Peas don’t even move. Finn and Kurt walk in after just a moment, and Finn make his guilty face when he sees the Peas.

“Charlie was worried about me again?” he guesses. 

“She’s put a little bit of it together,” Noah says quietly. “But she has it confused with an allergic reaction, like when Dougal had the reaction and they sent us all the message about almonds. I thought maybe you should wake her up and let her know you’re home, though.” 

“Harv came down to find her?”

“Yeah. Remind you of anyone?” Noah says with a little grin, gesturing to the Peas.

Finn smiles, and the guilty look softens. “You and me.”

“You always made a good pillow. Harv’s a smart kid.” 

“Charlie? Charlie?” Finn puts his hand on Charlie’s shoulder and shakes her gently. “I’m home, kiddo. You and Harvey can go back up to bed.”

“Hi Dad,” Charlie says sleepily, rubbing her eyes. 

“I’m home safe and sound. Go on up to bed.”

“Okay, Dad.” Charlie shakes Harvey. “C’mon Harbey. Bedtime.”

Harvey opens his eyes and nods. “Okay.” He sits up and then stands, giving Finn a quick hug. “’Night, Dad.” 

“Goodnight, Peas. Sleep tight,” Finn says. Charlie hugs Finn, too, then takes Harvey by the hand and practically drags him towards the stairs. 

“I’m going to follow them up and make sure they’re settled,” Finn says, leaning over to give Noah a quick kiss, then heading towards the stairs. “I’ll be back in a few.” 

“Good time?” Noah asks Kurt, who nods and sits down. 

“We first determined you need to be a flapper for Halloween,” Kurt says with a smile. “You can straighten your hair and it’ll almost be long enough.” 

“A flapper,” Noah says, then shakes his head. “Are you sure you don’t just want me to go as a stripper?”

“It’s the idea that you’re _trying_ to cover up that makes it appealing,” Kurt says. “We talked about more serious things, too. How is it that we keep ending up with no guidebook?” 

“Let’s just go with ‘we’re unique’,” Noah says wryly. “We should give Michelle permission to use our story with details changed or something.”

“She can title it _A Cautionary Tale_ with the subtitle _Why Denial Is a Bad Thing_ ,” Kurt says with a quiet sigh. “I’m sorry. On the other hand, maybe we need to stop repeating that phrase.”

“As long as it’s not rote, we’re probably okay,” Noah says. “But I’m starting to hear a tune every time.” 

Kurt laughs for a second. “Of course you are.”

Noah can hear Finn on the steps, and he grins a little and shrugs before turning towards Finn. “Peas all settled?” 

“They were curled up together in Harv’s bed when I got up there, and Charlie was already asleep,” Finn says. 

“I told you, smart kids,” Noah says, standing up again. “I think it’s _my_ bedtime.” 

“Yeah, probably mine, too,” Finn says, though he doesn’t look tired.

“Make it unanimous?” Noah asks Kurt, who laughs. 

“Sure, let’s go to bed.” 

 

Finn’s smoothie is waiting for him when he comes downstairs from his post-run shower. He takes a sip and tries to determine what’s in it this time.

“Peaches?” Finn asks. 

“And ginger and almond,” Noah says with a nod. 

“Tastes like a pie. I like it!”

“I’ll make a note,” Noah says, grinning. “I have an easy one today.” 

“Good, then you can go first,” Kurt says. “Unless you wanted to, Finn?” 

Finn shake his head. “Mine’s kind of big.”

Kurt nods and raises an eyebrow at Noah, who snorts. “Mine’s just if we’re really going to Cuba over the summer or not, and if we are, are we going to be awesomely nice and take Hannah and company?” 

“I feel like we might owe Syd a vacation at this point,” Finn says. “Maybe we should bring her and her flavor?”

“Is Cuba where she’d want to go?” Kurt asks. “I admit it wouldn’t have occurred to me as a prime destination.” 

“Maybe not. The food should be good, though, and Syd likes food.”

“That was the only reason I thought about Hannah,” Noah says. “Let her drag Stevie and the twins around in search of specific restaurants or something.” 

Finn nods. “I guess I could send Syd somewhere else.”

Kurt laughs. “She’d probably get more time with her flavor. But at least the eight of us are going to attempt Cuba?” 

“It’ll be an adventure, I guess,” Noah says. “You in, Finn?” 

“Sounds good to me. I’ll get some nice cigars,” Finn says. 

“That was simple enough,” Kurt says. “Mine is somewhat big, too. Do you want to go ahead, or should I?” 

“I guess I can go,” Finn says. “Mine’s big and kind of time and labor intensive.”

“It’s not the New York City marathon, is it?” Noah says with a grin. “’Cause I’m not running that.” 

“No. If I ever plan to do that, I’ll do it on my own,” Finn says. “No, this is a renovation project.”

“What do you want to renovate?” Kurt asks. 

“Well, for starters, I’d like to move my office down to the same level as the studio,” Finn says. “Maybe we could turn the storage room into a bedroom, or just get rid of the guest room altogether.”

“Maybe we should put all the office space downstairs,” Noah says after a moment. “We don’t really have _guests_ that often.” 

Finn nods. “Exactly, and the last thing I need to do is shut myself in a room on a level of the house with nobody else on it.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “Which brings us to the other part of mine.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, nodding a little. 

“I don’t want a bedroom. I don’t want to use that bedroom,” Finn says, looking between Noah and Kurt’s faces. “I know I shouldn’t even be asking this, considering I haven’t—” He takes another deep breath. “I don’t want to sleep on a different floor from you. I don’t want you in the guest room. I don’t want to sleep in that bedroom. The only solution I can come up with is that we turn that floor into two bedrooms.”

Kurt nods, looking like he’s just thought of something, and Noah looks considering for a few moments. “Two bedrooms and a small bathroom on the fourth floor, our bedroom and a larger bathroom and no office upstairs?”

Finn nods. “That way, if two of us need to use a bedroom, there’s a second bedroom on that level. Nobody’s downstairs. Nobody’s alone in _our_ bed.”

“I think that makes sense. Do you think we should go ahead and get started on that, in case it takes longer than expected?” Kurt asks. 

“If you think it’s a good idea, then yeah, I would.”

“That way we can have them schedule plumbing when we’re not in town,” Noah says. “And not the weekend of the Tonys or Pride.” 

“So you think that’s a good idea?” Finn asks.

“Yeah, I do. It’ll be nice to have all of us working on the same level, too,” Noah says. 

“I do, too, and it leads into mine, actually,” Kurt says. “I’ll call the same contractor we used before and set up a meeting. Should I go ahead?” 

Finn nod and looks at Noah. Noah shrugs and nods, sitting back a little as they turn to Kurt. 

“As much as I think the impulse behind moving forward as the three of us isn’t the worst idea with regards to sex, I don’t think it’s actually the best one in this situation,” Kurt says. “I firmly believe that we’ll get to the point of using our bedroom and the new ones, but focusing on the three of us may not be the best approach.” 

Finn frowns, glancing over at Noah before asking, “Which means what?”

“I think that given the facts, it makes the most sense for you to focus on how you and Noah can progress. And then we go from there.” 

“You sure, blue eyes?” Noah asks, and Kurt nods. 

“I don’t know,” Finn says. “I’m not sure it feels right. It feels like leaving you out, and that’s not what I want, because it’s not your fault any of this happened.” Finn knows he’s babbling a little, but he can’t help it. “What if it causes different problems?”

“Then we talk about it,” Kurt says, somewhat ruefully. “But I think, from what you’ve said and what we’ve all experienced, that being with Noah would help you trust yourself more when it’s the three of us. This isn’t about fault or being left out, in my mind. It’s just the three of us writing that guidebook as we go, again.” 

“It feels like punishing you for my fuck up,” Finn says. 

“And maybe I would feel that way if one of you had come up with it,” Kurt admits, “but I’m the one that did, and I’m the one that thinks it’s a good idea. Believe me, it would make me happy.” 

Finn looks at Noah, raising his eyebrows. Noah shrugs. “If he says he’s sure, he’s sure. And he’s pretty smart.” 

“But where?” Finn asks. “And when? _How_? Where will Kurt be?”

“I know it’s surprising, but we have enough money that you could get a hotel room, even if you don’t spend the night in it,” Kurt says with a small smile. “I know both of you can be romantic when you want to be, so plan ahead, have fun leading up to it, and…” He spread his hands with a shrug and a larger smile. 

“I’d say we could go to a baseball game first, but they last quite a while,” Noah says, grinning and glancing sideways at Finn. 

“If the Mets are losing, we could leave during the 7th inning stretch,” Finn says.

“Seven entire innings is your idea of romance?” Noah counters. 

“Because staying until the Mets lose _is_?” Finn asks. 

“I was the one who said the games were too long!” 

“Then what’s your idea of romance, asshole?”

“I was thinking something easier to leave,” Noah says. “Maybe that new arcade. And you could take me somewhere for chocolate.” 

Kurt laughs for a few seconds, looking smug, and then gestures for the two of them to continue. Finn laughs, too, shaking his head.

“I could just skip the arcade and give you the chocolate, and you’d be happy,” Finn says. “I could just fill a bathtub with chocolate for you.”

“The arcade’s for _you_ , duh. That’s why the baseball game won’t really work, ’cause of how the Mets aren’t guaranteed to win anything.” 

“I guess it’s worth a shot,” Finn says, winking at Noah. 

Noah grins. “I’ll start working out my thumbs.” 

 

The process of planning a date hammers home for Noah that he’s right about how they didn’t get that dating period with Finn. Even their flirting was mostly unconscious and involved a lot of possessiveness that none of them really understood. Now, though, they’re getting a chance to do it, and Noah decides that he should figure out some other good dates. Indoor miniature golf goes on the list to start it off. 

Noah finds a hotel that’s not too far away but not one they or anyone they know have ever used, and he goes ahead and gets it for two nights, in case they want to use it during the day before check-in time. On Friday, he finds a compilation of thirty second clips of video game songs, and he sends the link right as Finn should be leaving his appointment with Dale. 

When Finn gets home, Noah grins at him. “Did you listen?” 

“I did. That’s some video game music, alright,” Finn says. 

“It made me feel like I didn’t have a kid in grad school,” Noah says. “Did you add any thumb exercises to your routine?” 

“Hand flexibility,” Finn says. “I’m ready.”

Noah laughs. “Good. I’m counting on it.” 

Over Saturday and Sunday, Noah finds the smallest size baggies all over the house, each one filled with quarters. He finds the first one on top of the piano, another one in his shoe, and Sunday morning, a baggie stuffed into his coffee mug. When he goes on Sunday afternoon to check-in at the hotel and get their keys, his backpack is heavier than usual, because of another baggie of quarters. The last one is next to his plate at dinner on Sunday night, and Noah laughs, grinning at Finn for long enough that Eliza rolls her eyes. 

After Finn’s run on Monday and their now-usual morning discussion, Noah raises his eyebrows at Finn. “It’s after ten, you want to get our arcade on?” 

“Since I never got around to practicing, I guess we may as well,” Finn says, sounding both excited and a little nervous. 

“Got your stuff?” Noah asks, standing up and stepping closer to Finn. 

Finn nods, giving Noah a small smile. “It feels like prom night. I think I need a rental tux.”

“Well, they probably don’t see many of those in the arcade,” Noah says. “Probably more comfortable without the tux, though.” 

“I don’t know. Worked out pretty great for me last time.”

“Yeah?” Noah grins and slides his arm around Finn’s waist as they head out the door and start down the sidewalk. “Walk or taxi?” 

“I’m happy walking,” Finn says. 

“I think we should see if the arcade has one of those old dance games,” Noah says, grinning more widely. “Don’t you want to do that?” 

“I’m waaaaay out of practice, and you know that, so I think you’re just trying to get me to embarrass myself,” Finn says. 

“I could be. Or I could be trying to get you a little sweaty,” Noah says. 

“Yeah?” Finn asks, putting his arm around Noah and pulling him a little closer as they walk. “Why would you want me sweaty?”

“Wrong question. Why wouldn’t I?” 

“You wanted to actually have a chance to _play_ arcade games, right?”

“Someone did leave me a lot of quarters,” Noah says thoughtfully. “We should probably try to use up at least one baggie’s worth, right?” 

“It was a lot of quarters,” Finn agrees. 

Noah does insist they play a couple of rounds of the dancing game before they play a shooting game he vaguely remembers from middle school, and then Noah looks around. “Which game next?” 

“I think I saw one of those 3d racing games in the back,” Finn says. “The kind that’s enclosed.”

“Yeah?” Noah slips his hand into Finn’s. “Lead on.” 

Finn leads him to an enclosed booth in the very back of the arcade, giving Noah a gentle push toward the opening. Noah climbs in and scoots over, then looks back at Finn. 

“Are your legs going to fit?” 

“I’ll figure something out,” Finn says, sliding into the booth legs first, ending with his ass in his seat and his legs draping on top of Noah’s. “See how good I fit?”

“Perfect fit,” Noah agrees.

“You know what might be better?”

“What?” 

“If you came over here and shared my seat with me, so I could prop my knee on yours,” Finn says, putting his arm around Noah and tugging him towards Finn’s lap.

“Yeah?” Noah says, letting Finn pull at him. “That does sound like a good plan.” 

Finn positions him with his back against Finn’s chest, putting one arm around Noah’s waist. “How’s this? Comfortable?”

“Yeah,” Noah says, leaning his head back on Finn’s shoulder and closing his eyes. “This is good.” 

“It is,” Finn agrees. He puts his other hand on Noah’s chest, slowly running it downward, kissing the side of Noah’s face. When he gets to the waistband of Noah’s jeans, he pauses for a moment, then spreads his fingers and begins moving his hand down, cupping Noah’s cock through his jeans. 

Noah smiles, eyes still closed. “That’s good, too.”

“Yeah?” Finn asks softly. He starts to move his hand, slowly stroking Noah’s cock through the denim. 

“Well, as good as it can be while I still have my pants on, right?” Noah says. “I mean, you wouldn’t want to just unzip my jeans or anything?” 

“No?”

Noah lifts his head up and opens his eyes, grinning at Finn. “We are technically in public. On the other hand, we’re in the very back corner.” 

The arm still wrapped around Noah slides down his stomach to his waistband, undoing the button. Finn smiles at Noah as he starts unzipping the zipper, slipping his hand inside to wrap around Noah’s cock.

“Better?” Finn asks. 

“Yeah,” Noah says softly, turning his head enough to bring his lips to Finn’s, kissing him softly at first, then harder. Finn’s tongue moves against Noah’s as he strokes Noah’s cock slowly. Noah keeps kissing Finn as long as he can before his neck protests, and then he pulls away, nodding. 

“Stay here or go to the hotel?” Finn asks, his lips right near Noah’s ear. 

“We should go,” Noah says. “We should get a hot dog from the guy outside here and eat it on the way, so we don’t have to worry about lunch, and we should go to the hotel.” 

“Yeah, I think that sounds like a good plan,” Finn says. He slides his hand out of Noah’s pants and carefully zips the zipper. 

“Even if it’s going to be a little uncomfortable walking,” Noah says, wiggling a little. 

“Hey! We both have to walk, asshole!” Finn says. “Quit your squirming.”

Noah grins, climbing out of the game. “I know. We both have to suffer.” As soon as Finn unfolds himself from the booth, Noah puts his arm around Finn again and presses against Finn’s side. 

They do get hot dogs outside the arcade, eating them while they head to the hotel, and Noah pulls out the key as they walk in the lobby. 

“Almost there,” he says. 

“Good,” Finn says. “Now is good.”

“Yeah, it is,” Noah says, and when they get to the right floor, he stops and kisses Finn hard, holding on to the front of Finn’s shirt. Finn reaches behind Noah and grabs his ass, squeezing it. Noah grins, still kissing Finn, and then pulls away. “I think I know something.” 

“Yeah?”

“I think,” Noah says, dragging out the words as they walk down the hall to their room, “that you might be thinking about getting me naked.” He slides the card into the door and opens it, pushing the door open and looking at Finn. “Am I right?” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Finn says, crowding Noah so he has to back into the room. 

“You’d better lock the door, then,” Noah says, dropping his backpack as he keeps backing up slowly. Finn swings the door shut and slides the deadbolt, then he reaches for Noah, grabbing his shirt with both hands and starting to pull it up. Noah grins and lifts his arms slightly. Finn pulls the shirt off and tosses it onto the floor, reaching behind his head to yank his own t-shirt off. 

Noah runs his hands down Finn’s chest and then back up, circling Finn’s nipples and not quite touching them. He leans forward, kissing Finn’s neck and then his collarbone before running his tongue slowly over one nipple. Finn moans, burying his hands in Noah’s hair to hold him there. 

“Like that,” Noah mutters against Finn’s chest, the questioning tone not quite making it out of his head, and he licks again before sucking it into his mouth. 

“Fuck, yes,” Finn says, his fingers moving in Noah’s hair, tugging and pulling. 

“Tell me,” Noah says. He kisses across Finn’s chest, licking and kissing the other nipple before returning to the first one and pulling it into his mouth again. His hands go to Finn’s hips, resting there for the moment. 

“It feels so good,” Finn says. “I missed you so much. Fuck, I want you.”

“Yeah,” Noah whispers, kissing Finn’s neck again twice before dropping his head back to Finn’s nipples. He slides his hands around to the front of Finn’s jeans, moving one palm slowly up and down Finn’s cock while the other hand starts to unfasten the jeans. Finn gasps and moans, fingers tightening in Noah’s hair.

Once Noah gets Finn’s jeans unfastened, he pushes jeans and underwear down at the same time. He wraps his hand around Finn’s cock, just holding it for a long moment, and then starts stroking it slowly. 

“You feel so good,” Noah says. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” Finn says. “God, I missed you, I missed you.”

“Move to the bed now?” 

“Yeah, I fucking love that plan!”

Noah laughs and takes a step backward, towards the bed, then lets go of Finn’s cock and holds his hands up. “Are you going to help me with these jeans or do I have to take care of them myself?”

“I’ll help,” Finn says, hands going to Noah’s fly, unzipping his jeans quickly and shoving them down Noah’s hips. 

“That’s not help, that’s just doing it for me,” Noah says, running his thumbs over Finn’s nipples. “Not that I’m complaining.” 

“Want me to pull them back up so it’s a team activity, asshole?”

“I’d have to move my hands if you did that,” Noah points out, still moving his thumbs in little circles. “I don’t think you’d like that.” 

“No. I want you to keep doing that,” Finn says. He pushes Noah’s jeans farther down, so Noah can step out of them. Once the jeans are off, Finn alternates between kissing Noah and nipping his bottom lip. 

“What I thought,” Noah mumbles, taking another step towards the bed. 

Finn’s hand wraps around Noah’s cock, barely moving. “You don’t want to take a break and eat the chocolate I packed for you?”

Noah shakes his head. “I’m easy. You can feed it to me later.” 

“Good, because I didn’t really want you to take a break,” Finn says, walking Noah the rest of the way to the bed. 

“Would have felt dumb if I’d said yes,” Noah says with a laugh. He sits down on the edge of the bed, then lies back. “Thoughtful of you, though.” 

“Yeah, that’s me. Thoughtful,” Finn says, climbing on top of Noah on the bed and continuing to kiss him while slowly stroking Noah’s cock. 

Noah nods, his hands still on Finn’s chest, and he moves them in slightly bigger circles as they kiss. “Good you went with something easier to take off than a rental tux.” 

“I never did make it out of that on prom night,” Finn says. “Too bad.”

“We could always go for a do-over after the Tonys, but we own those suits.” 

“You’ve gotten me out of a tux a few times in my life. I just wish prom night had been one of ’em.”

“Yeah. We should have all realized we were really awkwardly flirting for months, too,” Noah says with a little shrug. 

“I wanted you so much and didn’t know how to tell you,” Finn says. He starts kissing the side of Noah’s neck, then runs his tongue around Noah’s ear, his breath warm. 

“We probably would have all gotten caught naked at school,” Noah says, laughing. “Poor Ms. Pillsbury or someone.” 

“We got caught anyway. We could’ve had so much extra time.” Finn’s mouth moves to Noah’s collarbone, kissing along it. 

“Could’ve figured out how many classes we could skip and still make it out of there,” Noah says. “That would have been educational.” 

Finn kisses the top of Noah’s left shoulder, then the middle of his chest, then his right shoulder. “Yep, definitely,” he says. 

Noah stretches to run his fingers over Finn’s nipples a final time, then moves his hands to the back of Finn’s neck and head. “You know what was great, though?” 

“What?” Finn asks, running his tongue down the center of Noah’s chest to his navel. 

“The week after prom, that Sunday afternoon. You remember?” Noah asks. 

“Yeah, I remember.”

“You had this look on your face,” Noah says. “And everything that afternoon felt right.” 

“Yeah, it did,” Finn says. “What look did I have?” He kisses Noah’s stomach, moving even farther down. 

“An awesome one,” Noah says, because he can’t really describe it, just picture it. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Finn says. He kisses the tip of Noah’s cock, then opens his mouth, slowly sliding it around and down Noah’s cock. 

“Oh,” Noah says quietly, moving the hand on Finn’s neck into his hair as well. “Oh, that’s good.” 

Finn nods, swirling his tongue around the head as one hand lightly cups Noah’s balls, the pads of Finn’s fingers pressing behind them. Noah tugs at Finn’s hair, his hips moving a little, and he lifts his head to look at Finn more clearly. 

“We’re not still eighteen, though,” Noah says, biting on his lower lip as his hips move. “Don’t let me come like this.” 

Finn whines a little, moving his mouth faster. His free hand moves across Noah’s chest, tweaking one nipple before sliding down to wrap around the base of Noah’s cock. Finn keeps moving his tongue, licking under the head and then down the shaft, his hand stroking upward to meet his mouth. 

“Asshole,” Noah says with a small grunt at the end of the word. “You know I’m right.” 

Finn whines again, sounding like it might be in agreement. He doesn’t stop moving his mouth or hands, though. 

“Finn,” Noah says, and he’s probably whining, too, his hips moving mostly on their own. “C’mon, please.” 

Finn lets Noah’s cock slide out of his mouth, sighing as he presses up behind Noah’s balls one more time. “Ok, ok. You’re sure you don’t want me to keep going? I love having your cock in my mouth.” He leans his head down again to swipe his tongue across just the tip. 

“I know you do,” Noah says, his hands still in Finn’s hair. “But I’m sure, for right now.” He grins. “I’ll whine more often.” 

“Aw shit, I gave in to the whining!” Finn says. 

Noah laughs. “Yeah, you did.” 

“After five kids, you’d think I’d know better,” Finn says, sighing dramatically. 

“Must’ve used up all your resistance on them,” Noah says, still grinning. “So I should start whining for what I want right now, right?” 

“I guess so, since it obviously works.”

Noah pulls a little, one hand on Finn’s shoulder. “C’mere and I’ll tell you.” 

Finn grins as he crawls up Noah, dropping some of his weight against him and grinding down, Noah’s cock pressing against Finn’s stomach. Noah pushes up a little, kissing Finn’s ear repeatedly for a few moments first. 

“I want you,” Noah whispers, his lips against Finn’s ear. “I want you inside me, just like this, just like that Sunday afternoon.” 

Finn’s smile falters, replaced by a more serious expression, his eyebrows drawn together. His hands on Noah become more tentative. He nods and sits, back, his eyes scanning the room until they land on Noah’s backpack.

“Be right back,” Finn says, standing and walking to the backpack, then kneeling to dig through it for the lube. Noah rolls onto his side for a moment, watching Finn, and while he’d had the thought that he should have put the lube closer to the bed the day before, maybe the momentary pause is better. It’s clear that Finn is still struggling, which is part of the reason Noah’s trying to keep Finn focused on memories much farther in the past. They’ll get there, and Noah can feel himself grinning a little as he watches Finn. 

“I love you,” he says quietly. 

Finn looks up from the backpack, lube now in hand, and smiles at Noah. “I love you, too.”

“You know, with those abs, I could almost think we _were_ eighteen,” Noah says. 

“I had a lot of free time,” Finn says, as he stands and walks back to the bed. “Takes a _lot_ more work to maintain them now.”

“I’m just saying they’re a nice display, is all,” Noah says, raising his eyebrows and grinning. “Lucky for me you don’t demand to look at the same standard.” 

“You look perfect,” Finn says. 

"Yeah? Come convince me."

Finn sits down on the bed close to Noah, flicking the lid of the lube bottle open and closed. Noah reaches over after a moment, putting his hand on top of Finn’s. 

“Hey. It’s okay. We’re good, right?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re good,” Finn says. “I just… I don’t know how to start.”

“How do you _want_ to start?” Noah asks. 

“I love you so much, Noah,” Finn says. 

“I know. I love you, too.” Noah gently pulls on Finn’s hand and uses his other hand to pull Finn closer. “Would it help if I asked you for specific things? Or not?” 

“Maybe.” Finn runs his free hand up and down Noah’s thigh. “I don’t know. I wish I knew how to fix it.”

“It’s okay. Nothing’s broken, and we’re going to figure it out.” Noah exhales a little, mentally running through things he could say, before continuing. “You had your hand on my balls before. Can you do that again? And kiss me?” 

Finn nods, leaning forward to kiss Noah. As his tongue pushes into Noah’s mouth, his hand carefully cups Noah’s balls, gently rolling them on his palm while they kiss. Noah shifts his hips with Finn’s movements, and he puts his hands gently on the back of Finn’s head, holding it there at the same angle while Noah deepens the kiss. 

“Can you press your fingers behind my balls again?” Noah whispers between kisses. Finn nods, pressing his fingertips behind Noah’s balls and kissing him again. After a moment, Finn starts kissing Noah harder, the hand on Noah’s balls gently moving as Finn presses and lightly circle his fingers towards Noah’s entrance. Noah hears a click, then Finn moves his hand away briefly, returning slicked fingers to just barely slide inside Noah.

Noah rocks his hips up carefully, trying not to move too quickly or too far, and keeps his hands on Finn’s head, still kissing him on the lips and then the corners of Finn’s mouth. 

“Yeah, that’s so good, darling,” Noah says, voice still soft. Finn nods, a trace of a smile on his face, and he slowly pushes two fingers into Noah. Noah rocks his hips again, returning Finn’s smile with a small grin. “Just like that. I love your fingers.” 

“I know,” Finn says, pushing them deeper and curling them upward. “You feel so good, baby.”

Noah’s grin gets wider as he keeps watching Finn, his hips still rocking with Finn’s movements. “Works out really well, since it feels awesome on this end, too.” 

“Good. More?”

“Yeah, more is good,” Noah says, nodding his head. “More is definitely good.” 

Finn’s face relaxes, the trace of a smile widening as he pushes a third finger into Noah, continuing to slowly move and press. Noah shifts his hips a little higher, moving his feet closer to his body, and he nods again. He can feel his grin widening again, his eyes mostly fixed on Finn’s face. 

“Still good?” Finn asks. 

“So good,” Noah says. “So fucking good.” 

Finn’s fingers keep moving, and Finn kisses Noah again, slow and deep. Noah keeps one hand on Finn’s head, almost pulling at Finn’s hair, and he slides the other hand between them, wrapping his fingers around Finn’s cock and starting to move his hand slowly up and down. Finn makes a soft sound into Noah’s mouth, moving his fingers faster. 

Noah kisses Finn a little harder, and he strokes Finn’s cock a little faster, his body pressing up against Finn’s. “Please?” 

“Oh, fuck yes,” Finn breathes, pulling his fingers out of Noah and flipping the lube open again, slicking up his cock and kneeling between Noah’s legs. He presses his lips gently to Noah’s as his cock starts to slide into Noah. 

Noah lifts his hips, one leg almost wrapping around Finn, and he returns the kiss with more pressure, his hands pulling at Finn’s hair. He can feel the rest of his body relaxing, and all of his skin feels hyperaware of where Finn’s touching him. Finn’s hands run down Noah’s chest and sides, down his arms, and then one hand slides under Noah, grabbing his ass and holding him as Finn thrusts into him. 

“So fucking good,” Noah says. “Oh, fuck. Just like that.” 

Finn’s eyes are half-closed as he pushes in deep, and Noah moves one hand to Finn’s face, running his thumb stutteringly over Finn’s jaw. Finn seems to take that as a cue to both kiss Noah again and to thrust harder and faster. Noah parts his lips, letting Finn deepen the kiss, and keeps his hand on Finn’s cheek as he tries to meet each of Finn’s thrusts. 

“Love you, darling,” Noah mumbles against Finn’s lips. 

“Love you, Noah,” Finn replies. “Love you, baby.”

“You’re so good. Everything’s so good. Love you so much,” Noah says, before kissing Finn again, softly and then harder before going back to soft kisses again. “Please, Finn.” 

“What do you need, baby?” Finn asks, the hand not holding Noah’s ass sliding between them and trailing down Noah’s stomach. “What do you need?”

“Everything. All of this. You.” 

“You have me,” Finn says. “I’m here. I love you so much, baby. I missed you so much.” His fingers curl around Noah’s cock, stroking it lightly at first, then more firmly and in time with his thrusts. 

“I missed you, too. We’re here,” Noah says, pressing his lips to Finn’s cheek and then to Finn’s lips. “Love you. Love you. Love you darling.” 

“I know, I know, I love you, I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry,” Finn says, moving faster as he starts to babble. “Noah, fuck, love you so much, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“I know, darling, I love you,” Noah says, moving with Finn. “Oh, fuck, please.” 

“Yes, whatever you want, yes,” Finn says, his hand moving up and down on Noah’s cock. He squeezes Noah’s ass with his other hand, spreading him open so Finn can drive deeper inside him. 

Noah lets his head fall completely back, letting out a low whimper. “Want us to come together,” he says, watching Finn’s face and still moving his thumb on Finn’s jaw. Finn nods, turning his face against Noah’s hand so he can kiss Noah’s thumb. His eyes open wide, staring down into Noah’s, and he starts to moan with each thrust. His moans turn into loud cries, Finn never breaking eye contact with Noah, and Noah can hear himself whimpering again as he moves his legs again, wrapping them around Finn completely. 

Finn starts chanting “oh god Noah, oh god, oh god” as his whole body seems to shudder as he comes, and he pulls Noah tightly against him, his hand working Noah’s cock faster. Noah moves his arms, wrapping them around Finn’s neck, and then he lets himself start to come, eyes closing and another whimpering moan escaping. 

As Finn drops his weight onto Noah, he presses his face to Noah’s neck and lets out a strangled sob. He slides his hand from Noah’s ass to wrap it around his waist, shoulders shaking with each breath. 

“I love you. I love you, darling. Love you so much, Finn,” Noah murmurs, running one hand over Finn’s hair. “Oh, you’re so good. We’re so good. I love you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Finn sobs. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know, darling. I love you. I _love_ you,” Noah says. 

“I hurt him. I _hurt_ him. I’m so sorry.”

“I know. It’s— That’s over, Finn. He’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re okay. _We’re okay_. I love you. Kurt loves you. You love us.” Noah keeps running his fingers through Finn’s hair, his other hand moving slowly in circles on Finn’s back. “You’re our darling.” 

“I’m just so sorry,” Finn says, more quietly now, his body starting to still. “I’m sorry I did this to us.”

“Finn.” Noah eases Finn’s head up just enough to look at Finn’s face. “There’s nothing you could do that would make us give up, or stop loving you, or anything like that. I promise. And we’re okay. We’re good, remember?” 

Finn nods. “We’re good,” he repeats quietly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Noah says, smiling softly. “I love you so much.” 

“I didn’t get bad at it since February, did I?”

Noah snorts. “No. You didn’t get bad at it. Although…” he trails off and tries to keep a straight face. 

“What? Was part of it bad?” Finn asks. 

“Just to make sure, we could rest a little, maybe get some food, and then double-check?” 

Finn smiles, maybe the first truly relaxed smile since he’s been back from rehab. “Yeah, I think that sounds like a great idea.”

Noah grins. “Yeah, I thought so. Now… I think I was promised something else, too?”

“Chocolate’s in my bag, asshole.”

 

The sky is fully dark and Finn is boinging Noah’s sweat-damp curls, trying to embrace the afterglow and ignore the guilty feeling that’s been riding him for two months now. Noah had sat in his lap while they ate burgers from room service and more of the chocolate Finn had packed, and it felt almost normal. Finn isn’t sure if that’s good or bad, because he isn’t convinced he should be able to find normalcy and peace again so easily, no matter what Noah says.

“I definitely regret telling you I missed the boinging,” Noah says lazily and unconvincingly. “Are we sleeping here or heading back?” 

Finn stretches another curl out and lets it spring back. “I don’t know. Part of me wants to stay here forever, but… I feel like we need to be with Kurt.”

Noah nods. “Then we should wait for the kids to fall asleep. They’re prepared for us to be gone all night.” 

“Let Kurt know, though. If Charlie’s having another bad night, we could go home,” Finn says. 

“She’s been having more good nights,” Noah says, leaning off the side of the bed enough to get his phone. “I think we’ll continue to be woken up by her periodically, or kept up by her, until she’s old enough to head to college, though.” 

“That’s my girl,” Finn says, smiling and boinging another one of Noah’s curls. “I think I’m going to teach her to do this to Harv.”

“I doubt you’ll have to _teach_ her,” Noah says, sending Kurt a message. “Poor Harv.” 

“He’d love it. He loves any attention from Charlie, even the bad kind.”

“Oh, that doesn’t remind me of _anyone_ ,” Noah says with a snort. 

“Yeah, Kurt,” Finn says, grinning at Noah. 

“You know, I think I just realized the real secret to this triad. There’s no way we’d be happy with just one person giving us attention,” Noah says with a laugh. “And Kurt says the kids are fine and it’s fine to ‘take your time’.” 

“I don’t think I have the energy to ‘take my time’ another time tonight,” Finn says. “Want to walk home in a little while?”

Noah nods, then grins and laughs again. “Are you telling me you’re getting old?” 

“I’m just saying that I don’t think third time’s going to be the charm tonight.”

“Too bad,” Noah says with a dramatic sigh, then shakes his head. “Yeah, I don’t actually have the energy, either,” he admits. “We should stop on the way and get some pop, though.” 

“I was thinking maybe some decaf and dessert to share,” Finn says. 

“Now I _know_ I’m old,” Noah says, grinning. “Decaf.” He turns his head and kisses Finn slowly. Finn puts his arms around Noah, rolling a little and pulling Noah down on top of him. Noah parts his lips, running his tongue over Finn’s lips, and rolls his hips a little. 

Finn laughs, even though they’re in the middle of kissing, and grabs Noah’s ass with both hands, squeezing and pulling him closer. Noah puts his hands on either side of Finn’s face, turning it up into the kiss, and he rolls his hips again before releasing Finn’s face. 

“I thought you said third time wasn’t the charm?”

“I was wrong, obviously.”

“Is it just that an older man gets you excited?” Noah asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“Only if that older man meets a very limited set of criteria,” Finn says. 

“Yeah?” Noah says. “You should tell me some of them. In case I know anyone that meets them.” 

“Lives on the Upper West Side, between the seventies and the fifties. Has to work in theatre. Last name Hudson-Hummel is a must.”

“You know, despite the narrow criteria, I think I know of _two_ older men who fit them,” Noah says, grinning. “Aren’t you lucky?” 

“I think the word we decided on was _charmed_.”

“I am charming,” Noah says. 

“ _Fucking_ charming,” Finn says.

“Oh, so it’s _Rent_ references?” Noah asks. “Sure you want to play that game?” 

“I’m defeated. I should give up right now.” 

“Yeah, so I’ll go ahead and claim my prize?” 

Finn grins widely and grinds up against Noah. “Guess it depends on what prize you wanted.”

Noah returns the grin and wiggles a little. “You could argue I’m already in the process of claiming it, couldn’t you?” 

“I’d never argue with you, baby. You’re the _smart_ one.”

“Hold that thought,” Noah says, then puts his mouth next to Finn’s ear and kisses it a few times before whispering in it. “I’m so fucking proud of you.” 

“Noah,” Finn says softly. 

Noah pulls back and smiles smugly at Finn. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Finn says, and they both stare at each other for a few minute, before he says, “but if we’re going to pick up dessert to bring home, we should probably actually get going soon.”

“Even in Manhattan, the best desserts aren’t available all the time,” Noah says with another dramatic sigh as he shakes his head. 

Finn hesitates for a second, then he say, “Maybe we could pick this up again when we get home?”

“As long as you remember I’m still claiming my prize,” Noah says, grinning and running his hand through Finn’s hair before leaning in for a kiss. 

“I won’t forget,” Finn promises. 

“Good.” Noah straightens and then slides off Finn slowly, scooping up their clothes and putting them all on the bed before starting to pull out his own. Finn retrieves his clothes from the pile, pulling on his underwear and jeans, then stopping to kiss Noah for a moment. After ending the kiss, Finn tugs his shirt back on. He double checks that everything is back in their bags, then he swings his own bag over his shoulder.

“Ready?” Finn asks. Noah nods, so they head out of the hotel, dropping the key off at the desk on their way out. 

The walk home is quiet, the two of them holding hands and occasionally looking at each other and smiling. Every block or so, Finn stops and pulls Noah close to kiss him again, which makes the walk take twice as long as it otherwise would be, but Noah doesn’t seem to have a problem with that, and Finn definitely doesn’t. 

When they get to their corner and turn towards the house, Noah looks at Finn and grins. "I'm making a list of dates to take you on, just so you know."

“Oh yeah? Any ideas so far?”

"Other than the Empire State Building, the Circle Line, and the Yankees versus Orioles series?" Noah asks, his grin widening.

“So you don’t like me and you’re trying to get rid of me?” Finn asks. “I bought _chocolate_ for you! I gave you quarters!”

“Oh, I should scrap the plans for the black light indoor miniature golf, too? I thought we could wear all black and hide in a corner, but if you want me to get rid of you…” 

“No, I like that one. That’s a good one!”

Noah kisses Finn. “I’ll find more like that, then.”

 

Kurt doesn’t ask any questions when Noah texts him, but as soon as Kurt hears Noah and Finn coming in the door, he knows that both of them sound far happier and more relaxed than they have in months. There’s no small amount of satisfaction in knowing that he was at the very least partially correct, and Kurt walks towards their voices. When he sees them, standing close to each other, hand in hand, and the way they’re exchanging glances, Kurt can tell that he was completely correct, and a small knot of tension releases itself inside him as he smiles at them. 

“I don’t need to ask how your day was,” he says lightly. 

Finn’s answering smile looks slightly guilty, but a different kind of guilty than it has the past few weeks. “We didn’t use all the quarters,” he says. 

“Maybe we’ll have to actually try to _play_ the racing game sometime?” Noah says with a grin. “Everybody still asleep?” 

“As of ten minutes ago, yes,” Kurt says. “Nova wants two stories from each of you tomorrow, though.” 

“Charlie did ok?” Finn asks. “She fall asleep in Harvey’s bed again?”

“I think that’s just where she sleeps now,” Kurt says with a shrug. “It makes, what? Three years of their lives they’ve regularly slept apart?” 

“I guess there’s no reason to separate them right now,” Finn says. 

“Nah,” Noah says, then looks questioningly at Finn, and Kurt isn’t sure exactly what Noah’s trying to figure out. Finn nods slowly. Noah snorts. “I guess it _could_ be a yes or no question. Upstairs?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “I think so.”

“Time for bed?” Kurt asks, head tilted. 

“In a manner of speaking, yeah,” Noah says. He walks towards Kurt, still holding Finn’s hand, and takes Kurt’s hand with his free hand. “Maybe we could give you something to watch?” 

Kurt starts to nod, but then glances first at Finn, who nods again, taking a step towards the bed. “Okay,” Kurt says softly, smiling at Finn and then Noah. 

It’s a little strange to watch and not participate at all, other than commenting, even when all they’re doing is getting undressed, but Kurt sits down in one of the chairs in their bedroom, crossing his legs, and decides to really _watch_ , focusing on the details. The biggest change that jumps out at Kurt immediately is Noah is initiating contact and kisses without any hesitation, but it isn’t the only detail that makes Kurt smile. Their familiarity with each other is restored, and then there’s the way they’re looking at each other. Occasionally one or both of them will look over at Kurt, too, and Kurt smiles back at them, trying not to let out even a small laugh at the way they’re so obviously performing for him. 

When they’re both undressed, Noah starts kissing Finn, turning their bodies so Kurt can watch as Noah wraps his fingers around Finn’s cock and starts moving his hand slowly. Finn’s eyes flick over to Kurt, then close as he lets out a very soft moan. Noah’s other hand comes up to Finn’s nipple, and Kurt shifts in the chair and presses his lips together, still smiling, as Finn yelps. 

“Yes, definitely something good to watch, my loves,” Kurt says, and Noah looks over with a grin. 

“Any special requests?” He pulls on Finn’s nipple as he says it, making Finn yelp again, and Kurt starts to shake his head. 

“No— well, actually, yes,” Kurt says. “Darling? After I watch the two of you, do you want to watch Noah and I?” 

Finn smiles at Kurt. “Yeah. Yes, I’d really like that.”

“Then maybe you should make sure our baby doesn’t come?” Kurt says. 

Noah sighs dramatically. “Poor me.” 

Finn nods, still smiling, and closes his eyes again. Noah doesn’t stop moving his hand on Finn’s cock, despite his dramatics, and Kurt laughs. 

“Yes, so pitiful, Noah.” 

Noah shrugs and grins, then bends his head to suck on Finn’s nipple, his tongue licking across it just beforehand. Finn lets out a whinier yelp, grabbing Noah’s head in both hands to hold him there. 

“I think he likes that,” Kurt says. “Do you want him to keep doing that, darling?” 

“Yes,” Finn says. 

“You heard the man, baby,” Kurt says, and Noah releases Finn’s nipple, his head still bent over. 

“He’d probably like it if I could have my mouth in four places at once,” Noah says, then kisses Finn. “Wouldn’t you?” 

“One’s fine if you don’t stop,” Finn whines. 

“Just kisses?” Noah teases, and Kurt watches as Noah lets go of Finn’s cock and then pinches both of Finn’s nipples at the same time. “I know you like kisses, but your nipples would be so sad.” 

“Two, ok, I need two,” Finn says. “Two’s good.”

Kurt smiles and bites back a laugh, because ‘I need two’ could easily be some kind of family motto, though he’s equally certain that their family crest would be unsafe for public consumption. 

“Yeah, two is good,” Noah says, pinching again and then pulling. “You know what else is good?” 

“Everything,” Finn says.

“Yeah,” Noah says, his voice a little softer, and he kisses Finn again. “And part of that everything specifically, your cock.” 

Kurt almost laughs again, feeling ridiculously happy at the familiar banter. “ _You_ would want four cocks, baby.” 

“I would not!” Noah protests. 

“Two is good,” Finn says. 

“Yeah, two is good,” Noah agrees. “And right now, I want your one.” He pinches one of Finn’s nipples, sucking and biting at the other. Finn hisses and slides his hands back into Noah’s hair, tugging slightly. 

“Catch, baby,” Kurt says, picking up a bottle of lube and tossing it carefully into Noah’s outstretched hand. Noah switches it into the other hand as he moves his mouth to Finn’s other nipple, then presses the bottle towards Finn’s hand, whining as he holds Finn’s nipple in his mouth. Finn releases his grip on Noah’s hair, taking the bottle and immediately flipping the lid opening, pouring some lube into his other hand and reaching down to coat his cock. 

After tossing the bottle to the side, Finn grabs Noah by the hips, pulling him away from Finn’s nipple and rolling him onto his hands and knees. Noah whines again, then shifts his weight forward slightly. Finn moves closer, positioning the head of his cock at Noah’s entrance, and he looks directly at Kurt as he slowly slides in. 

Kurt smiles, nodding as he watches Finn’s cock slide inside Noah. “Remember,” he says softly. “Don’t let him come yet.” 

Finn smiles back, starting to slowly rock his hips forward and back. “I remember,” he says. “I love you. Both of you.”

“I love you,” Kurt says, his smile getting bigger. 

“I love both of you even if you are ganging up on me,” Noah says, turning his head and grinning. 

“You like it when we gang up on you,” Finn says. He rocks forward a little more forcefully, holding tightly onto Noah’s hips, his skin meeting Noah’s with an audible smacking sound. “Maybe I’m not as old as I thought.”

“Of course you’re not old, darling,” Kurt says. “You’re our much-younger kept boy.”

“I like it when ganging up on me results in coming!” 

Finn doesn’t acknowledge Noah, other than by moving faster, thrusting hard enough that Noah is letting out small, quiet grunts with each thrust. Finn closes his eyes, mouth open slightly as he moves. 

“God, you’re both so beautiful,” Kurt says as he watches the two of them, and he presses his palm against his cock for a moment, not moving it. “So beautiful and so good to watch.” 

“I miss you,” Finn says, not opening his eyes. 

“I know, darling. I miss you, too,” Kurt says softly. 

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Finn says, and Kurt can see him squeezing Noah’s hips even harder. 

“Yeah,” Noah says. “So fucking good, Finn.” 

“I love you, Noah, love you so much.” Finn thrusts harder and faster into Noah. Kurt recognizes Finn starting to babble, and he leans forward, still smiling. “Love you, oh fuck, you’re so tight, you feel so good, so good, I— fuck, Kurt, Kurt, god, I need you.”

Kurt stands up, walking over to the bed, and he puts his hand on Finn’s back. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” Finn says, turning his face towards Kurt. Kurt slides his hand up to Finn’s neck and leans in at the same time, kissing Finn hard just as his mouth opens to babble again. Finn’s tongue slips into Kurt’s mouth, and he moans into the kiss as his body shakes and shudders. 

Kurt continues kissing him for a few moments, then pulls away, one hand still on Finn’s neck and the other on Noah. “So beautiful, my loves. So good. I love you.” 

“Love you,” Finn says softly. “And I love you, Noah.”

"Love you," Noah says, moving forward until Finn slips out, then flipping onto his back and grinning up at Finn and Kurt. "You said you thought you weren't that old, your abs made me feel eighteen, should I make Kurt feel eighteen again, too?"

Finn lies on his side next to Noah, his eyes moving between Noah and Kurt. “Yeah, you should,” he says. 

"What exactly does that mean?" Kurt has to ask, raising his eyebrow.

Noah laughs, pulling on Kurt until his mouth is on Kurt's ear. "Like this," Noah whispers, and Kurt is still confused until Noah moves his mouth to Kurt's neck, laughing as he sucks at Kurt's skin.

Kurt starts to giggle, but he doesn't push Noah away. Noah's not wrong; it does make Kurt feel younger, a bit. "I feel eighteen!" Kurt says after a minute, still laughing. 

Finn’s also laughing, propped up on one arm watching them. “You look eighteen, definitely,” he says. 

"Flatterer," Kurt says as Noah finally moves his mouth away from Kurt's neck, looking pleased with himself.

"Not too bad considering I'm out of practice," Noah says, then grins at Finn. "You want one too?"

"Don't make me the only one!" Kurt says, trying not to laugh. 

“Sure,” Finn says, rolling closer to Noah and baring his neck. 

Noah grins at Kurt and then turns to Finn. Once Kurt thinks Noah is sufficiently preoccupied, he picks up the lube and quickly coats himself before pushing inside Noah's entrance. Noah grunts and then pulls away from Finn's neck "No warning?" he says, then turns back to Finn.

"No," Kurt says. "Eighteen year olds like surprises."

“Surprises are ok,” Finn says, closing his eyes and tilting his head for Noah to gain better access to his neck. 

“See? We really are eighteen,” Kurt says triumphantly, starting to slowly thrust as Noah tilts his hips upwards. Noah nods, moving his mouth a little, and Kurt moves faster. 

“There,” Noah says, sounding both breathless and satisfied. He kisses Finn and then reaches for Kurt, kissing him and putting his hands on Kurt’s ass. “Darling?” 

“Yeah?”

“Would you take care of my cock this time?” Noah asks, grinning at Finn. Finn smiles back at Noah and reaches for his cock, hand slowly moving. 

Kurt keeps his hands on Noah’s hips, pulling Noah towards him slightly with each thrust, and he starts to giggle as a thought occurs to him. Noah looks up at him inquisitively, which just makes Kurt giggle more. 

“What’s so funny?” Finn asks. 

“I’m so thematic,” Kurt says. “I’m not going to last that long, not after watching the two of you.” 

“Yeah?” Noah rocks up hard into Kurt’s next movement. “Sounds like a good plan to me, blue eyes.” 

Kurt laughs again. “Good.” 

Finn sits up, hand still on Noah’s cock, with his other hand placed gently on the back of Kurt’s neck and pulling him down until their mouths meet. Kurt kisses Finn deeply while he pushes harder and faster into Noah, and he comes almost suddenly and with a deep shudder that he doesn’t expect. He catches his weight on the bed and on Finn, eyes half-closed as he watches Noah thrust into Finn’s hand for a few more moments before coming, too. 

“This is better than eighteen,” Noah says after a moment. “Know why?” 

“Why?” Finn asks, settling down next to Noah on the bed and hauling him closer. Kurt slides down on the other side of Noah, rolling onto his side and facing Noah and Finn. 

“Because now we don’t have to get up or move or anything,” Noah says. “Instead, we get to go to sleep in the same very pricey huge-ass bed.” 

Kurt laughs. “That _is_ an advantage. We have another advantage tonight, too.” 

“Yeah?” Finn says. 

“I know this one,” Noah says, grinning at Kurt and then Finn. “Tomorrow’s Tuesday.” 

 

Noah knows that the three of them turned some sort of corner, but he also knows that the realization he had is equally important. They—all three of them, in every combination, though less so Kurt and Noah—need to sneak kisses when they’re supposed to be making breakfast, make out in front of the kids until at least one of them complains, go on more dates, and make an effort to do things at home after the kids are in bed, things that aren’t necessarily upstairs in bed at first. 

While Finn runs the next morning, Noah mentions all of that to Kurt, then makes Finn’s smoothie, joking that Kurt should find his own version of smoothie-making. By two days later, Kurt has thought of and discarded at least five possibilities, including the thirty second insanity where Kurt considered asking Finn if he’d want to sell UNcut. 

“I’m pretty sure Finn doesn’t want to do multilevel marketing,” Noah says, “even if it is sex toys and really tight shorts.” 

Kurt sighs. “You’re probably right. What _are_ you putting in that smoothie today?” 

“Pomegranate.”

“It’s very red?” Kurt says, shrugging and then looking towards the stairs. “Have you noticed anything about Finn’s smoking?” 

“That it’s less?” Noah says, dumping in more pomegranate with the Greek yogurt. “Yeah, it’s not really in any kind of pattern, but I think it’s less.” 

“Good, I wasn’t making it up,” Kurt says. 

“Nah, I think it really is less. We shouldn’t say anything, though. Maybe _he_ doesn’t realize.” 

“No, you’re right.” Kurt frowns. “I’d still like it if he quit eventually. By fifty, definitely. Forty-five would be even better.” 

“One thing at a time, blue eyes,” Noah says with a small grin before putting the lid on the blender and finishing the smoothie. He pours it up in a glass before he and Kurt sit down just before hearing Finn on the stairs, headed back down. 

“Be warned, darling,” Kurt calls. “Your smoothie looks bloody today.” 

“Did Noah finally decide to cut out the middle man and toss in a steak?” Finn asks as he enters the room. 

“It’s just pomegranate,” Noah says with a large sigh. “And pureed steak was gross enough when we gave it to the kids.” 

Finn picks up the glass and takes a sip. “Definitely not steak,” he says. “So how many sips until I have to live in the underworld for half the year?”

“How long until Charlie is tired of Greek myths is a better question,” Noah says. “Unless the underworld is a euphemism.” 

“Half of the year you’ll have to drink juice instead of a smoothie?” Kurt suggests. 

“Pass,” Finn says. “I’ll stick with the smoothies.”

“I don’t blame you.” Noah grins at Kurt. “Did you want to ask him about se—”

“No!” Kurt interrupts, shaking his head. “No I do not, and you do not need to bring it up.” 

“Bring up what?” Finn asks. 

“Nothing! I just had a very bad idea, and Noah won’t let it drop,” Kurt says, and Noah laughs. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” he agrees. “So I have a thing for today. Unless one of you needed to go first.” Kurt shakes his head. Finn just shrugs, continuing to drink his smoothie. “It’s not a big deal, but it feels like something you should know, Finn.” 

“Do I know it?” Kurt asks, looking puzzled. 

“Well, yeah, but it was years ago,” Noah says. “And since we’ve been talking about things we should have done or could have done, I don’t know. I thought you should know this particular one was actually discussed, right after you came home. I think it was after the temporary order with _her_ but before the final?” Noah looks over at Kurt, eyebrows raised. 

“Oh. Oh, yes.” Kurt nods. “December that year.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense. We were starting to talk to Syd about setting up all the paperwork, for once _she_ signed the final agreement,” Noah explains. “And you remember how complicated it all was, right?” 

“Right,” Finn agrees.

“And it just… we were looking over it, and it suddenly seemed really weird and wrong, the way everything was phrased, so we asked Syd a question. The answer turned out to be a big ‘don’t you dare make this even _more_ complicated’, so we dropped it, but basically it seemed like it didn’t make a lot of sense for two of us to be legally married if we’re a triad.” 

Finn nod slowly. “It protects the kids, though. That’s why it makes sense, or at least, it’s why it did to begin with.”

“Well, and because Syd said it made her job easier,” Noah says wryly. “But it was too long between then and changing our names, you know?” 

“But the name change happened,” Finn says.

“Yeah.” Noah shrugs. “I just felt like you should know that.” 

“Thank you,” Finn says. “For telling me and for asking Syd about it to begin with.”

Noah shrugs again, then grins at Finn. “How come you never tried just calling us the three musketeers?” 

“Because there were four of them. Wouldn’t have made sense,” Finn says. 

Noah laughs. “Fair enough. Okay, that was all from me today.” 

“All I have today is that you should do pomegranate with something to make it more pale, and Fiver’s passport got here finally,” Kurt says. 

“Well, I was _planning_ to talk about our Tonys suits, but now I want to talk about taking the kids and fleeing the country,” Finn says. 

“So what you really want is for me to take you shopping?” Kurt asks. 

Finn grins. “In Italy?” 

“Did we buy a private jet while I wasn’t looking again?” Kurt tsks. “Goodness.” 

“If I don’t get back to my practice soon, the only vacation travel we’ll be able to afford is the subway.”

Noah snorts. “Sure, darling. We definitely need your income for pocket change.” 

“Hey, I do very well for being a shrink in the City!” Finn says. “Asshole.”

“Which tells us something about the size of the _rest_ of the budget, asshole,” Noah says. 

“You’re the asshole, _asshole_!”

Kurt sighs one of his very dramatic sighs. “It’s not even Tuesday, you two. Noah, can’t you take him upstairs or something?” 

“I’m pretty sure I can’t carry him,” Noah says, grinning at Kurt and then looking at Finn. “Maybe he could make _me_ go upstairs. Or something.” 

Finn sets down his glass and walks toward Noah, putting his good shoulder against Noah’s stomach and lifting him. “We’ll be upstairs if you need us,” Finn calls as he walks towards the stairs. “Or if you want to join us!”

 

Six weeks after getting out of rehab, Finn makes himself answer the phone when he hears his mother’s ringtone. He takes a deep breath and says, “Hello, Mom.”

“Finn!” Carole says. “You’ve been avoiding me. Now, I’m sure it’s been difficult to cope with, but I did try to warn you several times that this would happen. I’ve been prepared for years to help you with this.” 

“Uhh…” is all Finn can manage to say at first, because if anything, she’s the only one who has been in more denial about his drinking than Noah and Kurt, plus he’s not sure how she even found out about rehab. “Thanks, I guess?”

“Where are you living?” Carole asks. “Where are the two little girls? It’s good Eliza’s been with Rachel, isn’t it?” 

“Whoa, whoa, hold up. What are you talking about?”

“There’s not really a nice way to put it, Finn, but the dissolution of your… triad.” She says triad distastefully, like she’s making a face. “Remember, I told you that this outcome was likely. You really shouldn’t have expected so much from Noah and Kurt.” 

Instead of being shocked or offended, Finn realizes he’s laughing. “Mom, I really have no idea what you’re talking about. We’re fine. The three of us are all fine, all _five_ of the kids are home with us where they belong, and everybody’s doing really well. Best we have in years.”

“Then why have you been avoiding my calls?” Carole demands. “And I know Kurt has changed the subject when you come up when he’s talked to Burt!” 

Finn’s laugh turns into a sigh as he shakes his head. “I wasn’t exactly available for phone calls, Mom.”

“For months? Where were you?” 

“Mom,” Finn says. “I was in rehab.”

Carole sighs. “Really, Finn? You don’t have to be so dramatic when you make something up.” 

“ _Mom._ Listen to me. I was in rehab. Rehabilitation. I’m an alcoholic. I was in rehab.”

“Having a few drinks doesn’t make you an alcoholic, Finn.” Carole sighs again. “So you were going to a few meetings a week and used that as an excuse not to talk to me?” 

“I was in an inpatient rehab facility for six weeks, and I’ll just be honest with you, Mom, dealing with phone calls like this wasn’t high on my priority list when I got out,” Finn says. 

“I don’t even know what to say to you, Finn. First you say all of you are doing well, then you tell me that you were in some kind of rehab program, and you’ve been avoiding my calls, obviously.” 

“We are all doing well, _now_ ,” Finn says. “This was too long coming. Now that we’re finally talking about it, we’re doing pretty great.”

Carole makes a humming noise, then tsks. “I certainly hope you didn’t do a press release for this. And— wait. Did you mean earlier that Eliza’s not still living with her mother?” 

“Yes, she’s back home again.”

“I hope she’s still having regular contact with her. Being a teenage girl is so hard, I’m sure Eliza appreciates having an adult woman to confide in.” 

“Eliza can call Rachel anytime she wants to, but I don’t think that really happens a lot,” Finn says. “Besides, I really think she’s more comfortable talking to Syd. Or Hannah or Tina. Or any of the women in our lives who don’t keep trying to turn her into something she’s not.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, Finn.” Carole pauses. “As long as you’re all doing well, I suppose,” she says stiffly. 

“Yeah. We are. Thanks for your concern,” Finn says. His face feels tight, and he shifts from foot to foot.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you at Audrey’s graduation, unless we speak again beforehand. Send me some pictures of the girls?” 

“I think we’re getting some taken soon, so I’ll make sure to send you picture of _all five of my children_ ,” Finn says. “Goodbye, Mom.” Before she can say anything else, he ends the call and flips the ringer off on the phone. He shifts foot to foot again, then walks past the table a few times before setting the phone down and walking into the kitchen.

Finn’s standing in front of the cabinet with the door open before he realizes what he’s doing, and he’s grateful that the cabinet is empty, so he didn’t actually pour a drink on auto-pilot. He sighs and closes the cabinet, patting his back pocket to make sure his cigarettes are in it, then walks outside to the courtyard. Maybe limiting calls from his mother for the foreseeable future is a good plan. He is surrounded by people who love and support him; why spend any time or energy on the ones who don’t?

 

The post-Tony crush to get out of the theatre and to a party is as slow as ever, which gives Kurt time to make a few observations. The first, of course, is that Finn is as always the beloved mascot of the Tonys. The second is that the amount of gossip Kurt is hearing for the first time serves as a marker of how distracted Noah’s been. Normally Kurt hears the Tonys gossip weeks or even a month beforehand, from Noah, but this time most of it’s new, and Kurt knows he’ll likely hear more once they arrive at the party. 

They only had one win, for set design, despite being nominated in all the design categories, for book and score, and a nomination for Mercedes, but Kurt and Noah had known even when the show opened that it was unlikely to sweep the Tonys. The number of nominations had even been somewhat of a surprise, made even more of a surprise by the fact that he and Noah hadn’t been watching the nominations being announced. 

Kurt’s quite sure that they’ll have some requests for comment on the winners and not winning, but if they can make it to their car and to the party, they can probably avoid having to give as lengthy of a statement. Of course it would nice to win every single time, but everyone who’s nominated thinks that as well. 

When they finally make it to their car and it takes them the short distance to the party, Kurt brushes himself off and tucks his arm in Finn’s as Finn’s other arm goes over Noah’s shoulders. Kurt hears at least one comment that he’s sure he wasn’t meant to hear, about the ‘Hudson-Hummels actually showing up for something this year’, and he turns in the direction of the comment, one eyebrow raised, making eye contact with as many people as possible until two of them turn slightly pink. Kurt is still smiling when they walk into the party, and within a few moments, Noah gets snagged by a few other composers. He gives Finn and then Kurt a kiss, and as Finn and Kurt continue, Kurt can hear one of the others saying ‘So the second honeymoon rumor is true?’ to Noah. 

“We never really took a first honeymoon,” Kurt says quietly to Finn. 

“Pensacola,” Finn says. “But that means we’d be on our, what? Twentieth or something.”

“It’s not a honeymoon, it’s a tradition,” Kurt says, just before Leslie approaches with someone Kurt doesn’t know but Leslie clearly wants to introduce him to. Kurt gives Finn a kiss, and as he turns towards Leslie, he sees Neil approaching Finn, two glasses in hand, and both of them are clearly filled with pop. Kurt watches just long enough to see him give one to Finn, and Kurt turns his attention fully to Leslie and his friend with a smile. 

Most of the party, at least for the first forty-five minutes or so, is typical: introductions, reconnecting, and a few pieces of gossip that everyone actually knows. After a bit, however, Kurt starts overhearing two unusual things. He had anticipated the first, quiet comments and speculation about their reclusiveness since February. Most of the commenters are either exaggerating or have lost track of time, since ‘all year’ or some variation is the most common phrasing. Kurt wouldn’t go back and try to maintain any facade otherwise, though, so they’ll just have to continue speculating. 

The odder comments concern Rachel Berry. He hears a few actresses talking about how a friend of theirs got a part over Rachel, even though their friend had been convinced there was no way that would happen. He hears a few costume designers discussing their good fortune, that their new projects won’t include having to deal with Rachel. It’s a little curious, but Kurt doesn’t know exactly what it means until he hears two producers discussing how they need to find Noah and thank him for the heads up. 

Kurt stifles a laugh as he heads through the crowd to find Finn and Noah to head either to the next party or home, and he finds Finn first. 

“Ready, darling?” Kurt whispers from behind Finn, sliding his hand under the jacket of Finn’s suit and up his back. 

“Yeah. Let’s find our Noah.”

“I have a question for him, actually,” Kurt says, stepping beside Finn as they steer through the crowd. “A different question for you. After-after party or home?” 

“I think I’m ready for home,” Finn says. “If you and Noah want to go to the after-after party, though, that’s fine.”

“And miss a chance to take advantage of a truly empty house?” Kurt asks as he spots Noah. “We only get so many nights like this in a year.” 

“Does that mean we’re staying in the living room for part of the evening?” Finn asks. 

Kurt smiles widely. “Well, it does give the people walking down the street such a nice show.”

Finn laughs. “You’re a hero of the people, bossofme.”

Kurt can feel his smile get even wider, especially since Finn doesn’t immediately react in any way that suggests he noticed what he said. “Exactly,” he says as Finn collects Noah with his arm, and Noah settles against Finn’s side. 

“Time to go home?” Noah asks.

“Yes,” Kurt says, then waits until they get out the door before continuing. “Now, baby, you wouldn’t happen to know why there’s so much gossip about Rachel Berry not getting any work at all, would you?” 

“Neil mentioned something about that, too,” Finn says. “Strange, right?”

Noah grins as they climb into the car and put up the privacy partition. “You know, the amazing thing about being slow to badmouth anyone for years is that when you _do_ suggest strongly that people might want to think twice about hiring someone? They listen.”

“You mean when people call?” Kurt says, because it’s true that they’ve gotten calls over the years about this or that cast member or various members of the crew. 

“No, I mean when _I_ call them,” Noah says smugly. 

“Noah,” Finn says. 

“New York only,” Noah says with a shrug. “I’m sure there are theatres in Chicago who’d be happy to have her.” 

“You’re blacklisting her,” Kurt says slowly. “She won’t be able to get a job here at all within a few years?” 

“Can this backfire? What happens if it does?” Finn asks. “What if she figures out it’s you?”

“What can she do?” Noah asks. “She doesn’t have any real connections, not with the people we have connections with. She can’t say that we’ve said anything to the girls, because we haven’t. And anyone you asked, they’d say the same thing. I mentioned an extensive list of reasons why she’s a professional nightmare. They may _know_ I have personal reasons, but I didn’t mention them.” 

“It’s genius,” Kurt says. “It hits her where she will most feel it.” 

“But Jesse’s still good, right?” Finn asks.

“I didn’t say a word about anyone except her,” Noah says with a nod. “Now, I’m sure it’ll make it harder for her to go to another city to find work, if Jesse’s getting good roles here, but that isn’t my problem.” 

“We only have four more years until we’ll probably never hear from her again,” Finn says. “She won’t try to see Charlie after Eliza turns eighteen.”

“No, probably not,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “But blacklisting her, that’s a gift that keeps on giving.” 

Noah grins. “It really is. And if we’re lucky, she’ll go to some other city to try to find a role even before Eliza turns eighteen.” 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling lucky,” Finn says. 

Kurt laughs and leans in closer. “That could be because of where Noah’s hand is, darling.” 

“What? We put up the privacy partition,” Noah says. 

“Let’s just get home fast,” Finn says. 

Kurt smiles. “Yes. The living room window is waiting.” 

 

The Friday after the Tonys is the day Eliza’s finally done with the conservative Jewish high school _she_ had picked out, and since it’s final exams, Eliza gets done around lunchtime. Noah, Kurt, and Finn reschedule their usual appointment with Michelle so they can be home, and Noah is unsurprised when Eliza almost bounces through the door, already out of uniform. 

“I’m free!” she yells, spinning around. 

“Did you change on the street on the way home?” Finn asks, laughing at her. 

“I think she did,” Kurt says. “That tank top and shorts aren’t really warm enough for early June, but they _would_ have fit under her uniform.” 

“Maybe,” Eliza says, smiling at Kurt, and Noah suspects that Kurt may have had a hand in helping her figure out just how to do it. “And I should probably feel bad for throwing the uniform away, but I don’t think Mom will notice when I send the others back to her, that one set is missing.” 

“I’m happy to see you looking happy,” Finn says. 

“I am happy,” Eliza says. “ _And_ I have a week before the Peas and Nova are done. Aren’t you looking forward to having me around, Dad?” 

Noah laughs. “How are you going to turn down that face, Finn?” 

“Impossible,” Finn says. “I was thinking I’d put her to work.”

“I heard child labor was coming back into vogue,” Kurt says. “I think we should have a nice lunch date with her one day next week, though.” 

“Oh, definitely.” Noah grins. “You should invite a friend, Eliza. Don’t you think so, darling?” 

“What was her name? Ainsley?” Finn asks.

Eliza looks resigned. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?” All three of them shake their heads, and Eliza sighs. “I suppose lunch is better than a full family dinner.”

“We won’t embarrass you,” Noah says. “At least, not too much. On purpose.” 

“Well, Papa and Daddy won’t,” Finn says. “I’m not promising not to bring out the pictures.”

“Don’t forget to include the one from her recital when she was nine,” Kurt says. “The not-quite-a-curtsy one.” 

“That was a good one,” Noah agrees. 

“I thought you said you weren’t going to embarrass me on purpose!” Eliza says, crossing her arms.

“They’re liars. They lie,” Finn says. 

“That’s a little bit true,” Kurt says, and Noah nods. 

“Only for the purposes of good, though. You should tell us more about Ainsley, so we can tailor our stories about you,” Noah says. 

“Oh my god, I can’t tell if you’re trying to be helpful or make me feel the total effect of three dads at once,” Eliza says, putting her hands on her face and shaking her head. 

“Both?” Noah suggests. 

“So tell me more about Ainsley,” Finn says. “I hear she’s tall.”

“Oh my god,” Eliza says again. “I’m going to start warning Nova about this now. And Fiver.” She does her best glaring at them, but Noah doesn’t have the heart to tell her it’s mostly ineffectual. “Wait. I just thought of something.” 

“Yes?” Kurt asks. 

“If we have a nice long lunch with Ainsley, and I don’t delete any of the pictures Dad wants to show Ainsley, can I go to Pride?” 

“Oh, that’s my girl,” Kurt says, almost too proudly, and Noah has to hide a smile. 

“Yeah, I think that sounds fair,” Finn say. 

“Yes!” Eliza jumps in place again, then runs up the stairs, calling back down, “I’ll be down for lunch in a few!” 

“We have done very well,” Kurt says, and Noah laughs. 

“The wanting to go to Pride, or the bargaining for it?”

“What’s wrong with either?” Kurt says. 

“We’ll just make sure she’s watching the parade from the other end than we are,” Finn says. 

“Come to think of it, she has no idea how we dress or act at Pride, does she?” Noah asks. 

“ _Way_ at the other end of the parade,” Finn suggests. 

Noah laughs. “Yeah, ’cause I already bought new shorts.” 

“Those shorts,” Finn says. “I love those shorts.”

 

Finn leaves Eliza and Heidi at his office to finish filing the paperwork from Violet and Greg for the clients they’d picked up for him over the past few months, and takes the 2 to meet Syd for lunch at the little taco fusion place that just opened up near her office. When he gets there, Syd is already at a table with a pop for each of them and a basket of what looks like fried wonton tortilla chips with some weird looking salsa. 

“Do I even want to ask what that is?” Finn says, pointing at the salsa as he sits. 

“Kimchi salsa, but I think there’s some chopped avocado in it, too,” Syd says. “It’s spicy.” 

“Awesome,” Finn says. He picks up a chip and dips it into the salsa, taking a bite and nodding. “Yep. Spicy. And speaking of spicy…”

“Yes?” Syd asks. 

“Did you pick up any hotties at Pride this year?”

Syd looks offended. “Of course.” Then she smirks. “Did Eliza?” 

“Syd! She’s fourteen!” Finn says, then he grins at her. “Anyway, she brought her own.”

“She’s still young, she should be sowing wild oats,” Syd says, shaking her head and still smiling. “But good for her.” 

“Ainsley seems like a very nice girl. We didn’t even show her that many baby pictures of Eliza.”

“Saving those for later?” Syd guesses. 

“We’re saving the big guns for the _college_ girlfriends, Syd,” Finn says. 

“Oh, right, of course.” Syd eats a couple of chips and then looks at Finn. “So, it’s not that I don’t like meeting you for lunch, Finn, but why the sudden urgency today?” Her eyes widen. “We’re not suing anyone, are we?” 

“No, Syd, we’re not suing anyone.” Finn picks up another chip and pokes the salsa with it, but doesn’t put it in his mouth. “I just realized today, while I was getting caught up on some of my work paperwork, that I hadn’t really thanked you.”

“For what?” Syd asks. 

“Everything,” Finn says. “For taking me to rehab. For taking care of all the legal stuff and my practice while I was in there. For looking after Kurt and Noah.” He smiles ruefully and pokes the salsa with his chip again. “And for pretty much being my rock for the last twenty-something years.”

“Finn.” Syd shakes her head. “What’s your best friend for, if not all that?” 

“I don’t think most people have best friends like you, Syd. I don’t think most people have _family_ like you. I don’t know where I’d be right now without you.” 

“Then that’s just sad for them,” Syd says. “You’re welcome, but I consider it part of the job description.” 

“I think it’s possible that the second best decision I’ve ever made in my life was going to the QSA meeting that day,” Finn says. 

“And the first?” 

Finn smiles. “Telling them yes the first time they asked.”

“Well, I’m okay being second best to that, then,” Syd says. “Things are good?” 

“Yeah, things are good. I’m still having a hard time with… certain stuff. I think I’m making progress. The three of us together are good. The kids are good. Just over four months sober.”

“Good. You _seem_ a lot happier than you have in, well, a few years,” Syd says, shrugging. 

“I might be the happiest I’ve ever been, outside of those first few months after I came home,” Finn says. “We talk about everything now. Nobody hides anything. It’s all out there, and we all still love each other. I feel,” he pauses and smiles before continuing, “ _peaceful_. I don’t think I’ve ever really had that before now. It’s a good way to feel.”

“Good,” Syd says. “You deserve to feel that way. You always _have_ deserved to feel that way.” 

“I don’t know about always, but I’m ok with letting myself feel that way now, at least,” Finn says. “And trust me, Syd. That’s progress.”

“I know. And I’m happy for you.” 

“I did have a question, though. How did you know where to take me? How did you know that was the right rehab facility, especially with it being as discreet as it is?” Finn asks. 

Syd looks almost embarrassed and eats more of the kimchi salsa before answering. “It always had to be your choice,” she finally says, “but I also always wanted to be ready. I did the research and decided on it quite some time ago.” 

Finn nods and they eat more of the salsa and chips in silence, then place their order when the waiter finally comes back to the table. They make a little small talk while they wait for their food. After they’ve gotten their plates, Finn looks up at Syd again.

“You made the right call,” he says. “I know you say it’s what a best friend would do, but you did more than anybody else could have done. All of us owe you one. More than one.”

Syd shrugs. “Maybe, maybe not. I did what I could do, that’s all.” She smiles at Finn suddenly. “And do you not realize _just_ how many times I’ve gotten laid because of my connections to you, or to all three of you?” 

“So what you’re telling me is that you’ve been repaid in booty calls?” Finn grins widely. “And here I thought gay men didn’t have anything to do with lesbian sex.”

“You three always do like to be unique.” Syd laughs and looks pleased. “Just add that to your list of how.” 

“I’m a wonder of the modern age, Syd.”

Syd shakes her head. “What _are_ you?” 

Finn laughs at her. “I’m Finn Hudson-Hummel. I’m your best friend forever.”

 

When Kurt makes their travel arrangements for Pensacola Beach the second week in July, he specifically requests that their rental be a pickup. He finds exactly the suits he’s looking for for all three of them, and as they cross over Finn’s favorite bridges, Kurt feels unbelievably content. 

The wonderful thing about a tradition, Kurt feels, is that very little changes from year to year, and nothing looks different at all this summer from the previous one. The hotel desk clerk looks as puzzled as ever at their request for three room keys despite the room having only one king-sized bed, and Kurt wonders why no one ever warns the rest of the workers for the next year. 

When they get to their room, Kurt perches in the middle of the bed and digs through their suitcase before pulling out three bags. “Are you ready?” 

“I hope mine’s red this year,” Finn says. “This feels like a good year for red.”

“I did go with rather classic colors,” Kurt says with a nod. “Do you want to go first?” 

“Sure,” Finn says. 

Kurt smiles and hands Finn one of the bags. “Don’t worry, I didn’t buy you a sheer G-string.” 

“That still leaves room for it being sheer _or_ a G-string,” Finn says, opening the bag and pulling out the smallest bathing suit Kurt has bought him so far. “Well, it’s not a G-string, at least?”

“You worked hard for those abs. You should show them off,” Kurt says with a small shrug. 

“I think K’s got a point,” Noah says, grinning at Finn. “Put it on.” 

“Strip out here, or change and fashion show?” Finn asks. 

“Fashion show, if you’re offering,” Kurt says quickly.

“Be right back,” Finn says, taking his bag into the bathroom. He emerges less than a minute later, wearing just the skimpy red bikini suit, walking across the room and giving a respectable catwalk turn, hands behind his head. “Good?”

“Excellent choice, blue eyes,” Noah says. 

“I thought so, yes.” Kurt smiles at Finn. “Very good.” 

“You don’t think I’m a little old to show off this much skin?”

Noah shakes his head at Finn very slowly, and Kurt looks as sad as he can without laughing. “But we’re older than you. Are you saying we’re old?” Kurt asks. 

“Of course not,” Finn says. “I’ve just had a little bit more hard living than you.”

“Oh, yes, clearly you look so rough,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “I suppose _I_ should have bought board shorts, then. Since I have actual fat on my body.” 

“Yeah, but only in the right places,” Finn says, grabbing Kurt’s ass and squeezing. “I run five miles a day and work with a personal trainer four days a week to keep these abs you two seem to like so much.”

“Nothing wrong with admiration,” Noah says. “Who’s next, K?” 

“You are,” Kurt says, handing Noah his bag. “Should we make him walk for us, darling?” 

“You know it,” Finn says. 

“Got it,” Noah says with a grin, stepping into the bathroom for half a minute before returning in the black suit that’s cut like very skimpy running shorts. 

“We can stick our hands up onto his ass very easily this way,” Kurt stage-whispers to Finn. 

“I approve,” Finn says, doing exactly what Kurt described and reaching up under the back of the swimsuit to grab Noah’s ass. “Nice.”

“I approve, too,” Noah says. “Your turn.” 

“You don’t want me to just change right here?” Kurt asks. “I could give the two of you a nice show as I get undressed.” 

Finn looks at Noah and smiles. “What d’you think, baby?”

“I think he must want to give us a show,” Noah says. “We should probably let him.” 

“Noah says yes, so you’d better get on with it,” Finn says. 

Kurt laughs and pulls off his shirt, then lies back on the bed and slowly unzips his shorts before wiggling out of them. He puts his hands on the waistband of his underwear and raises his eyebrows at them. “Want me to keep going?” 

“Put a little more wiggle in it,” Finn says. 

“Demanding,” Kurt says, but he does in fact wiggle more as he works his underwear down and then kicks it into the floor. “Better this time?” 

“Yup,” Finn says. “Noah?”

“Definitely better,” Noah says. “Also, I could tell you thought so, darling.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Your hand _is_ still on my ass,” Noah says with a grin. 

“Hand get excited, darling?” Kurt asks, reaching for his bag and pulling out his white swimsuit. He wiggles more as he pulls it on, then sits up, gets off the bed, and turns around. 

“Got excited again, even,” Noah says. 

“New swimsuit day is one of my favorite days of the year,” Finn says. 

“I almost bought a suit that had rainbow stripes for one of us,” Kurt says with a little sigh. “But it was far too much fabric.” 

“Yours is even missing a little on the side,” Noah says, grinning. “Almost any amount of fabric is too much.” 

“Time to hit the beach?” Finn asks. 

“Sunscreen, darling,” Kurt says, picking up his bag again. “Though Noah already looks bronze.” 

Noah shrugs. “Pride.” 

“Maybe this year’ll be the year I tan first instead of burning,” Finn says. 

“Highly doubtful,” Kurt says, putting on his own sunscreen. “About as likely as my not turning pink.” 

“Just make sure you don’t burn your ass?” Noah says. 

“Oh my god, that was the worst,” Finn says. “Totally worth it, but the worst.”

“Yeah, you weren’t complaining at the time. Or about all the aloe K rubbed on your ass.” 

“I started to suspect that he was requesting aloe long after the burn stopped hurting.” 

“The aloe felt good,” Finn protests. 

“Just the aloe? Not my hands?” Kurt asks, picking up one of the keys and then laughing. “No one has a place in their swimsuit.” 

“I can tuck it in between the towels,” Finn says. 

“There’s really not much to steal here, anyway,” Kurt says. “Unless someone wanted lube.” 

“Lube, sunscreen, and aloe, that’s us,” Noah agrees. “Beach essentials.” 

 

None of them mentions the Dock the first partial day they’re in Pensacola Beach, probably because they order in after the beach and then swim in the hotel pool until a hotel worker kicks them out, which is also something of a tradition. The next morning, they get up early and watch the sunrise and then go back to bed, if not to sleep, and after an hour or so on the beach in the late morning, they walk east down the beach towards the Dock without any real discussion. The Dock is one of the only things that they haven’t discussed, in fact, despite the fact that it’s always been a place that they all drank. It’s lunchtime, not dinner, as they cross under the pier, Noah looks to the side, at Finn and Kurt both. 

“Eat outside?” he asks. 

“The breeze is nice,” Finn says in agreement. 

“We also didn’t bring shirts,” Kurt says, “so it’s probably best if we do sit outside.”

“The Dock is such a formal place,” Noah says somberly. “We’d need ties if it was dinner.” 

Finn eyes Noah up and down, then does the same to Kurt before nodding. “I think that’d be a good look.”

“Maybe ascots for the servers,” Kurt says whimsically. “In a nice aqua.” 

“So beachy,” Finn agrees. 

“Not with a dolphin print?” Noah says. “I think Denise would really like a dolphin print ascot.”

“Speaking of, do we see Denise?” Finn asks, peering in the direction of the now-visible Dock. “What if Denise doesn’t work lunch?”

“Then we keep ordering more appetizers until the dinner shift starts,” Noah says. “As long as we’re paying, they won’t kick us out.” 

“It could be argued that we live most of our lives by that rule,” Kurt says wryly as they cut up the beach away from the water and towards the Dock. 

When they reach the Dock, they sit down outside, making sure to be in the shade, and Noah picks up a mustard packet. “Make some goalposts,” he says to Finn, getting ready to flick the mustard across the table. Finn holds his thumbs and pointers up to make the goal, and Noah grins as the mustard packet sails to the right and lands on the concrete. 

“That was the worst kick I’ve ever seen,” Finn says sadly. “Maybe you should have Kurt do the next one.”

“Oh my god, how old are we now?” Kurt says, shaking his head and sighing exasperatedly. Finn doesn’t answer, just turns his hands towards Kurt and wiggles his eyebrows. 

“You know you want to,” Noah says. “You could try a mayo packet instead.” 

“Come on, number three,” Finn says, grinning and making the goal post dance back and forth.

Noah slides a mustard packet and a mayo packet towards Kurt silently, and Kurt huffs again. “Finn, you are forty years old and you have a PhD!” 

“And a goal post!” Finn sing-songs at Kurt. 

“You aren’t going to give up until I do this, are you?” Kurt says, picking up the mayo packet resignedly. 

“Nope, probably not,” Noah says. 

“ _Definitely_ not,” Finn says. 

“Very well.” Kurt flicks the packet across the table with a little too much force. It does go through the goal post, but then bounces off Finn’s face, and Kurt freezes. 

Finn looks startled, blinking rapidly a few times, then his face relaxes into a grin. “Still got it, bossofme.”

“He should enter the table football championships,” Noah suggests. 

“We’ll be your cheerleaders,” Finn says. 

“Finally going to get you in that skirt, Lady Coco?” Noah asks. 

“Oh, yes, that’s an _excellent_ idea,” Kurt says with a large smile. 

“Ohhhhkay, where’s that waitress?” Finn says, looking around and holding up his hand to flag her attention. 

“No Lady Coco?” Noah makes his saddest face as Denise approaches. 

“Cheerlady Coco,” Finn says. 

“You’re early!” Denise says as she stops at the end of the table. “So what can get you boys to dr—” 

“Lemonade’s fine,” Finn says, interrupting her. 

Noah nods as he moves his hands back and forth just above the table. “Yeah, just pops and lemonade for us today,” he says. 

“Oh, right, sure!” Denise says after just a moment. “Appetizers?” 

“You should bring us one of everything,” Finn says. 

“No,” Noah says, shaking his head. “Not one of the everything.” 

“Sorry,” Finn says. “I meant one of everything, but two of anything with bacon.”

“That’s better.” 

“I can’t decide if we’re acting like we’re fifteen or sixteen,” Kurt says. “I suppose I’ll have a better idea after we decide on the post-lunch activities.” 

Denise laughs and writes down their order on the ticket, and as she heads away, Noah props his head up and shrugs. “If we pick sex, that doesn’t tell you much about how old we are.” 

“What about if we pick naps?” Finn asks. 

“Have we _ever_ taken a nap without having sex first?” Kurt replies. 

Finn grins. “Good, ’cause it was a trick question. I was going to pick sex.”

“I vote sex, a nap, and then more sex,” Noah says. “That seems like the way to optimize the afternoon.” 

“How would we spend the evening, then?” Kurt asks. 

“More of the same,” Finn says. 

“You know,” Noah says as Denise approaches with their lemonade and the first of the appetizers, “we never have gone skinny-dipping.” 

 

Between napping and fucking and swimming in the ocean, Finn hasn’t gotten around to checking his phone. He brings it out onto the balcony with him so he can check messages while he smokes a cigarette and watches the sun beginning to set. Once the sun is down, they’ll head out for some dinner, but for now, Finn is content to read the check-ins from Audrey and Beth, and to look at the picture Eliza sent him of herself and Ainsley. 

“You two see the picture from Eliza?” Finn calls in through the open sliding door. 

“Oh, yeah, I [sent her that picture](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1orENiL-Pqp8ktXTyVXmyExek098ISw6DrWDGtNcb3kg/pub) we took yesterday,” Noah calls back. “The second to last one on the beach.” 

“Seriously?” Finn laughs. “Good thing she’s already in therapy, then, huh?”

“Body positivity is important to model for teenage girls, darling, remember?” Noah says, coming to the door and leaning against the doorframe. “And it’s important that kids know their parents are happy together.” 

“They probably don’t need to know how happy we are with their Daddy’s choice in swimsuits, though.”

“Positive queer relationships,” Noah says somberly. “Those are important, too. See how much A-plus parenting I packed into just one picture?” 

“Yeah. Fantastic job there, baby,” Finn says. “I’m sure Eliza let you know how much she appreciated it.”

Noah straightens and waves his hand dismissively. “I’ll just buy her some new sheet music. Also A-plus parenting,” he says. “My turn to shower.” 

“Let me know when you’re out. I’ll wash off the smoke before we head out,” Finn says. Noah nods and steps onto the balcony long enough to give Finn a kiss before heading back into the room. 

Finn turns back towards the ocean, where the sun has just touched the water. To his left, a pod of dolphins starts leaping out of the water, racing towards the setting sun. Finn leans back in his deck chair and finishes his cigarette while he watches them play. He has half a pack left, and while he hasn’t told Noah or Kurt yet, once that’s gone, he’s not planning to buy another one. He might just wait and see how long it takes one of them to notice, though knowing them, it probably won’t be too long.

“I think the dolphins like this end of the beach better,” Kurt says quietly from the doorway after a few minutes pass, and then he steps to the railing, leaning on it. “I’m glad we’re here a full seven days this year.” 

Finn runs one hand over Kurt’s ass, which is attractively squeezed into a pair of very tight jeans. “Me, too. We needed it.”

Kurt wiggles his ass a little, looking over his shoulder at Finn and smiling. “I thought you’d like these.” 

“I do like them,” Finn says, giving Kurt’s ass a squeeze. “We actually going to be able to get you out of them later?”

“They didn’t cost very much. You can use whatever means necessary,” Kurt says with an unconcerned shrug. “Maybe you were right, you know.” 

Finn stubs out his cigarette. “Yeah? About what?”

“You’re getting to enjoy my extra… padding, I suppose, and I’m eating more ice cream than I do most summers,” Kurt says. “Everyone wins.” 

“That’s definitely a win,” Finn says. He squeezes Kurt’s ass a second time. “I could try now,” he offers tentatively. 

“I do like late dinners. Theatre person and all,” Kurt says, wiggling his ass again. “Are you up for the challenge?” 

“If I never try, I’ll never know,” Finn says, standing and putting his arms around Kurt’s waist. Kurt shifts his weight back against Finn and tips his head onto Finn’s shoulder. 

“True,” Kurt says softly, looking up at Finn. Finn’s hands slide around to the front of Kurt’s jeans, undoing the button and zipper, then Finn starts walking them backwards into the room. Once the backs of his legs hit the bed, he slowly peels Kurt’s jeans off him. Finn presses his lips against the indentation the jeans left on Kurt’s hip.

Kurt wiggles again, running one hand through Finn’s hair. Finn spins Kurt around to face him, sitting down on the bed as he pulls Kurt close, one hand on the back of Kurt’s neck to pull him down into a kiss. Kurt’s hands slide down either side of Finn’s neck as they kiss, then rest on Finn’s shoulder blades. 

“Better with the jeans on or off?” Kurt asks. 

“Off,” Finn says, cupping Kurt’s ass in both his hands and squeezing it, moving his hands in slow circles. He and Kurt have spent plenty of time making out since Finn’s been back from rehab, but sexually, they’ve still had Noah between them, or it’s been Finn and Noah together, with or without Kurt assisting, or it’s been Kurt and Noah together with Finn present to kiss or touch them. The truth is, Finn still doesn’t really trust himself, but he trusts Kurt, and maybe it’s time to just let that trust be enough. 

“You always did want me in those assless chaps,” Kurt says. “I never did buy any though. Pride next year?” 

“Maybe I don’t want to share that ass with the rest of New York,” Finn says. 

“Bragging rights, darling,” Kurt says. He takes the bottom of Finn’s t-shirt in his hands and starts to pull it up. Finn raises his arms to help Kurt. As soon as his shirt hits the floor, Finn has his mouth on Kurt’s again. Kurt kisses back, hard, and his hands run down and back up Finn’s chest twice before he reaches for one of Finn’s nipples and pulls at it. Finn gasps against Kurt’s mouth before kissing harder, his hands kneading Kurt’s ass. 

Finn scoots back onto the bed, pulling Kurt down on top of him. Kurt puts one hand down on the bed, next to Finn’s arm, and tugs on Finn’s nipple again as he presses his cock against Finn’s stomach. Finn moans and pulls Kurt down harder, hands still firmly planted on Kurt’s ass. Kurt pushes back into Finn’s hands for a moment, then grinds against Finn with his own quiet moan. 

“Still too dressed,” Kurt says, straightening long enough to pull off his own shirt. 

“Can you get my shorts off without getting off me?”

“Hmm. Your view will have to change,” Kurt says, then turns in place, not kicking Finn as he does so, and he smiles widely over his shoulder at Finn before he leans towards Finn’s legs and unfastens Finn’s shorts. Once he’s pushed them off, Kurt spins again, looking pleased with himself. 

“Well, you managed it,” Finn says. 

“Yes,” Kurt says. “Without any kicking, so we probably shouldn’t tempt fate and try it again anytime soon.” 

“Probably not,” Finn agrees. He lifts his head to kiss Kurt again, then pulls away slightly. “You should grab the lube.”

Kurt doesn’t immediately say anything, just smiles and then kisses Finn. When Kurt props himself up again, he has the lube in one hand. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” Finn replies. “I love you so much.”

“I know,” Kurt says, his voice soft, and he runs his free hand over Finn’s cheek and across his jaw. “For so long. Always.” 

Finn doesn’t reply, but he does slide a hand between them to stroke Kurt’s cock. Kurt kisses Finn’s chin and jaw, then his neck, and Finn can hear him opening the lube at the same time. When Kurt’s mouth returns to Finn’s, Kurt starts slowly tracing one slick finger in a circle around Finn’s entrance. Finn lifts his hips encouragingly. 

Kurt steadily pushes his finger in, his eyes on Finn’s face, and he runs his other hand down Finn’s side. After a moment passes, he puts a second finger at Finn’s entrance and presses it in as well. “Good, darling?” 

Finn closes his eyes and exhales slowly. “Yes. Yeah, that feels good, Kurt.”

“You feel _so_ good,” Kurt says, moving his fingers in and out. “You’re so good.” 

“I missed you, I missed this,” Finn says. He lifts his hips to move against Kurt’s hand, enjoying the feeling of having someone inside him for the first time since rehab. 

“Missed you so much,” Kurt says, almost too quietly for Finn to hear. He pushes a third finger inside Finn and wraps his other hand around the base of Finn’s cock. “I love you so much.” 

“Love you, Kurt. You should fuck me now,” Finn says. 

“Yeah.” Kurt smiles as he removes both of his hands and slowly coats his cock with lube. “That’s a really good idea, darling.” He positions himself again, his hands on Finn’s hips, and then pushes into Finn. Finn cries out loudly, louder than he would have expected, and arches his back to let Kurt slide in deeper. 

Kurt doesn’t stop once he’s fully inside Finn, pulling almost all the way out and then pushing in with a little more force. He finds a rhythm quickly, one hand going back to Finn’s cock and stroking almost too lightly. Kurt jumps a very little bit a moment later, and the bed dips as Noah lies down beside Finn. 

“Hi, darling,” Noah whispers. 

“Hey, baby,” Finn says. He wraps one leg around Kurt, reaching a hand out for Noah. Noah shifts closer to Finn, pressing against his side, and kisses Finn’s shoulder. 

Kurt moves faster, the hand not on Finn’s cock moving to Noah’s side, and he smiles widely. “So, so good.” 

“It is,” Finn agrees. “We are. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Kurt tightens his hand on Finn’s cock, putting more weight behind each thrust. “You feel so good.” 

“God, Kurt, _you_ feel good, missed having you inside me.” Finn rocks his hips up, holding onto Kurt with his leg. 

“I missed you, too,” Kurt says softly, his hips and his hand moving faster. 

“You two look so hot,” Noah says. “So good to watch you.” He kisses Finn’s shoulder again. “Love you both.” 

“Love you, too, baby,” Finn says. He grabs Kurt’s ass again, pulling him down hard. “Harder, Kurt.”

Kurt laughs but complies, putting more force into every thrust and tightening his hand again. “Okay, darling,” he says, then pauses for several seconds. “Come for me, darling?” he says, his voice a little tentative at the end. Finn lifts his head to press his mouth against Kurt’s, moaning into Kurt’s mouth as he start to come all over his own stomach. Kurt’s kiss is hard as he thrusts into Finn a few more times, then comes, humming against Finn’s lips. 

Noah alternates between kissing Finn’s shoulder and Kurt’s neck as Kurt collapses on top of Finn, whispering something so quietly that Finn can’t make it out. 

“Hmm?” Finn asks. 

“Just that I’m really happy right now,” Noah says, kissing Kurt’s neck a final time and then curling up against Finn and Kurt. “Better than any dinner ever.” 

“I love you both,” Finn says. “Thank you for being patient with me.”

“We all had a long road to travel,” Noah says, and his shoulders move in a small shrug. “But we did it together.” 

“Yes,” Kurt says, his lips moving against Finn’s skin. “We did.” 

“We did,” Finn agrees. He closes his eyes and puts his arms around Noah and Kurt. “We made it.”

 

Packing day in Pensacola Beach is always Kurt’s least favorite day. No matter what time they have to return their rental vehicle and catch their flight, they have to be packed and out of the room by check-out time. Even after Finn came home, and they weren’t leaving Pensacola Beach to be separated again, it’s remained Kurt’s least favorite part of the trip. 

It still is, but it’s the best packing day, somehow. They eat breakfast and head down to the beach and leave the packing until one frantic fifteen-minute period. Kurt is pretty sure that they’ll have to repack their suitcases before getting on the plane, but they’re out of the hotel by the required time, and none of their belongings are still in the room, so he’s going to count it as a win. 

“Lunch at the Dock?” Noah says after they move the rental truck from the hotel lot to the main beach parking lot. 

“Then a dolphin cruise,” Finn says. 

Kurt nods and gives Finn a sideways glance. “And end with some ice cream?” 

“Sounds perfect.”

They do exactly those three things, taking a picture at the Dock before leaving, and eating their ice cream while sitting in the sun gives them a chance to dry off after the boat ride. When they settle into the truck again, Noah and his shorter legs squeezed into the middle, Kurt leans to his left so one hand is on Finn’s right shoulder and the other on Noah’s leg. 

“I had a very good week, my loves,” Kurt says as they go over the first bridge. 

“It was a really good week,” Noah agrees. “In every way.” 

“Yeah. I’m still ready to go home, though,” Finn says. 

“Me too,” Noah says, and Kurt nods. 

“It’s a first, though. No frantic calls from anyone about the kids.” Kurt closes his eyes and relaxes against Noah as they approach the second bridge. “We probably have two more years before they start again.” 

“Maybe Harv’ll keep Charlie in line,” Finn says. 

“Did you ever keep me in line?” Noah asks. 

Finn grins at Noah. “Well, I tried, anyway.”

“Think of it this way, baby. How thick would your file have been _without_ Finn keeping you in line?” Kurt asks amusedly. 

Noah laughs. “Okay, okay. Point taken. Good job, darling.” 

“What can I say? I’ve always been helpful like that,” Finn says. 

“Very,” Kurt agrees. 

The conversation on the drive to the airport is a little different than usual, too. They’ve always kept their topics light as they leave, but there’s more discussion of things that are coming than most years, and less discussion of things that have already happened. Kurt is pretty sure it would be odd to get _less_ nostalgic as they get older, but their lives over the past twenty-two years have shown them that as good as the present may be, there’s usually something even better later, so maybe less nostalgia is actually the proper response. 

Their flight to Atlanta is on time, which means they don’t have to worry about making their connection, and the skyline is bright against the night sky as they approach LaGuardia. 

“I was going to say, two more nights without interruption,” Noah says, “but by the time we check out the renovations, it’s going to be more like one night, isn’t it?” 

“One night’s still better than nothing,” Finn says, “and don’t you want to see the house? I bet it looks great.”

“Well, yeah. I just thought of it not being quite this late for some reason,” Noah says. “But there’s still no transporter technology.” 

“Probably for the best,” Kurt says with a sigh. “We’d try to go at the same time, and you’d end up with one of Finn’s legs and one of your own, and I’d end up with half straight hair and half curly hair.” 

“Regular travel technology is fine by me,” Finn says. 

Kurt nods, silently glad neither of them developed a sudden interest in him having half straight and half curly hair. As soon as they hail a cab, it’s obvious they’re home, since the driver doesn’t pay any attention to the way they’re sitting and exchanging kisses between the three of them. Noah spends at least half of the trip in Finn’s lap, and Kurt isn’t really sure who is squeezing his ass at any given point. They finally get home, Noah pays the driver, and the three of them stand on the sidewalk for a brief moment. 

“At least we don’t have any changes to investigate on two of the floors,” Kurt says, shrugging and heading up to open the door. Even though the contractors had done as much as possible before everyone left, they haven’t really seen much of the fourth or fifth floors. 

“Quick peek at the office level, then we’ll look upstairs?” Finn says. 

“Sounds good,” Noah says, nodding, and they leave their bags in the foyer before heading down. 

The storage area and guest room are completely gone, the studio still mostly closed off, but the office areas are somehow bright, despite the hour and the lack of natural light even during the day. “The glass doors actually work,” Kurt says. “I admit, that was one of the contractors’ ideas I wasn’t too sure about.” 

“And it’s the hard-to-break kind, so that’s good,” Noah says. 

“Looks good,” Finn says. “I like the offices being close together.”

“Yeah. And now we have an excuse not to have too many guests,” Noah says with a grin. 

“Sometimes a good thing.” Kurt shrugs and they head up to the fourth floor, which looks completely different. “Wow,” Kurt says quietly. 

“It doesn’t even look like the same room,” Finn says, his voice soft. “It looks like completely new rooms.”

“It is,” Kurt says, walking into the slightly larger of the two. “Oh! The bathroom connects the bedrooms.” 

“So someone could walk up the stairs and as long as the bedroom doors are closed, everything just looks like bedrooms or storage rooms?” Noah says. “Probably good.” 

“It’s nice. It’s really different,” Finn says. 

“Lighter and bigger, too,” Kurt says, then reaches for their hands, nodding at the stairs. “Shall we?” 

“At least we know our bed isn’t any bigger,” Noah jokes. 

“Wait, could we get a bigger one?” Finn asks. “If there’s a bigger one, we should get it.”

“There’s not,” Kurt says, shaking his head. 

“And we’d still end up on the same amount of bed, whether that’s two-thirds of ours or one-half of a theoretical bigger bed or all of a king-size one.” 

“I like the _option_ of more bed,” Finn says. 

“We could start a big bed company?” Noah says as they head up the stairs. “Niche market.” 

“Triads, polyamorous groupings of larger sizes, and communes,” Kurt says. “We’d better have international shipping. Kibbutzes.” 

“Would I get a lot more bed out of the deal?” Finn asks. “If so, I’m in.”

“Probably not,” Kurt admits. 

“I don’t need more bed,” Noah says. “If I decide the mattress is uncomfortable, I’ll just roll onto you, darling.” 

“Yeah, that would be terrible,” Finn says, putting his arm around Noah. 

Noah shrugs and then grins. “Hope you can handle it.” 

The changes to the fifth floor aren’t as obvious when they first leave the stairs, but after they take a few steps into the bedroom, it’s clear that it’s somewhat bigger. “If this room is this much bigger, the bathroom must be a lot bigger,” Kurt says. 

“As long as they really moved my tub up here, I’m good,” Finn says. 

“Then let’s check,” Noah says as they turn to the bathroom, and he steps through the door first. “Yep! One nice big tub.” 

“Good,” Finn says. 

“You know what the best part of all of it is?” Kurt asks. 

“Other than them finishing on time, you mean?” Noah says, and Kurt nods. 

“What?” Finn asks. 

“It’s practically like a new house, right?” Kurt says. “And luckily we have all day tomorrow, plus tonight, to make sure we _thoroughly_ approve of all the changes.” 

“Yeah? So we should really go room to room, right?” Finn asks. 

“Definitely,” Noah says. “We’d hate to not have one room looked at before we settle the account with the contractor.” 

“I’m sure you’ll want to make extra-sure with your tub, even,” Kurt suggests, fighting a smile. 

“Well, we don’t have that much time, so let’s get to it,” Finn says, rubbing his hands together. “We’ve got work to do!”

None of the kids seem to care all that much about the renovations, except for Eliza, who says more than once that she should have asked for an office downstairs, too. Five days after the kids get home, all of them fly to Cuba. Noah makes an effort to take as many ridiculously cheesy tourist-type pictures as possible, and in the process gets a few really good portraits, too. 

Safiya has most of August off, and as they finish back to school shopping, Noah realizes that for the first time in years, the next school year they won’t need Safiya during the entire day, because Fiver will be in preschool, and there’s no real reason to keep paying Safiya for the full day, because there’s not another baby planned. Fiver hadn’t been planned originally, either, but at forty-one, the idea of finding another surrogate seems less and less likely. Their five is a good number. 

Plus, if they had another kid, back to school shopping would take two full weeks, or at least that’s what Noah is afraid of. 

Finn doesn’t step outside to smoke anymore, and neither Kurt nor Noah makes a big deal out of it, but Noah still hears the relief in Kurt’s voice when he confirms with Finn that he’s done with the cigarettes. There’s no way Noah’s going to be able to pick a favorite day of 2034, he realizes the morning of the first day of school. For a year that started out with the three of them on autopilot and Eliza at Rachel’s, that morphed into some of the hardest weeks they’ve ever had, the days since April have, overall, been unexpectedly wonderful. 

The first day of school is a good contender, though. Eliza, the Peas, and Nova pose on the stairs at the front of their school, and Noah gets two pictures before Fiver runs to get in the picture, too. They’d been lucky to get Eliza back in the school, since most of the NYC public schools set their classes at the beginning of ninth grade. Fiver cries when her siblings go inside, and Noah and Kurt swing her between them after Finn begs off because of his shoulder. Noah and Kurt probably wouldn’t have let him, anyway. The three of them head to the nearest park to meet Safiya and hand off Fiver so she can go to some kind of preschool art thing at one of the museums. 

“Let’s get some coffee,” Kurt says, “and pretend today is also Tuesday?” 

Noah laughs. “Thursday is the new Tuesday.” The walk home is quiet, each of them drinking his coffee, but when they get home, they sit down in the living room. 

“So what do we need to talk about today?” Kurt asks after a few more moments of the three of them sitting there, touching and not talking. “Other than how we’re still not buying the one hundred fifty count colored pencils.” Kurt pauses. “Right?”

“Uh, I might’ve ordered the one hundred fifty count colored pencils,” Finn says.

Noah laughs. “So you’re keeping them in your office?” 

“Well, yeah, since they’re _obviously_ for me,” Finn says. “Where else would I keep them?”

“What’s that thing where people see sound as colors?” Noah asks. “You can write about music therapy with colored pencils, because of that.” 

“Synesthesia, and yeah, I can use them with my clients,” Finn says. 

“Still the smart one,” Noah says smugly. “We actually do have a thing, sort of related to your office.” 

“Oh?”

“We might be working out of the house full-time until April or May,” Noah says. “So if you were planning on having uninterrupted time during the day this school year…” 

“Need to plan to do it at the Morningside Heights office?” Finn guesses. 

“Unless you’re open to thirty or forty-five minute long breaks periodically,” Kurt says with a smile. “We weren’t completely sure how yesterday’s meeting would go, but with Mercedes ready to leave the show, we’re probably going to announce it’s closing at the end of the month.” 

“Time for the next big thing, huh?” Finn asks. “I’m really ready to carry a full schedule of clients again, anyway, so that works out pretty well. I’ve gotten as far as I can with the manuscript without sending something to my agent. Oh, but why April or May?”

“Maybe you can have the book come out at the same time?” Noah says. “Assuming it keeps flowing like it has the past month, we’d be opening in June, just in time to catch the nostalgic tourist crowd that wants a nice, funny musical experience.”

“You sound like a _Playbill_ article,” Kurt says, making a face. “What he _means_ is that _Three Men and a Baby_ should go into rehearsal in April or May.” 

“Awesome!” Finn says. “I thought it was time for a funny one.”

“We might need a date for the opening night, though. Know anyone?” Noah asks. 

“Gosh, I can’t think of anyone you’d take to a musical about three men raising a baby,” Finn says. “Not anyone at all.”

“Too bad,” Kurt says. “Maybe an idea will come to you?” 

“I’ll think about it really hard,” Finn says. 

“Hopefully you’ll think of some people to take to your book launch,” Noah says, then jumps a little as his phone starts playing Beth’s ringtone. “Hang on. Hello?”

“Hi, Grandpa!” Beth says, and Noah knows he probably looks like a dead fish with his mouth hanging open. 

“Uh. What?” Noah manages. 

“What?” Finn asks. “What is it?”

“You’re going to be a grandfather!” Beth says as Noah holds up one finger towards Finn. “I just called Mom, and I’m calling Q in an hour or two when she’ll be on lunch, so don’t call and warn her!” 

“I won’t,” Noah says. “When?”

“The beginning of May. Hang on, I’ll send you the ultrasound picture. Are you totally in shock?” 

Noah laughs. “Yeah, a little bit. Congratulations.” 

“Thanks, Papa. Okay, the picture’s sent. You go tell them now and get used to your new name, and I’ll still see you when I’m in the City in a few weeks.” 

“Okay, I will,” Noah says. “Love you, Beth.” 

“I love you too! Bye!” 

Noah stares at the phone for a second, then goes to find the picture, which looks just like any other blurry ultrasound picture, but it does have Beth’s name and “EDD: 05/04/35” at the top. 

“What is it?” Kurt asks. “She can’t be getting married again.” 

Noah turns the phone towards them silently. Finn lets out an absurdly high-pitched excited noise for a man of his size.

“A baby! That’s a baby!” Finn says. “That’s _Beth’s_ baby!”

“She called me _Grandpa_ ,” Noah says. “I’m forty-one and I have a two year old.” 

“Oh, that’s silly,” Kurt says. “Clearly you should be _Grandpapa_.”

“Does this mean we can change [the name of the musical](https://docs.google.com/document/d/16C1lFxybrHA1hXX23CwtCjgiiGZehqscZnYgjC0mmrI/pub) to _Three Men and a Grandbaby_?” Finn asks. “Grandpapa?”

“You two aren’t going to stop calling me that now, are you?” Noah asks with a sigh. 

“No,” Kurt says, shrugging. 

“No way, Grandpapa.”

Noah laughs wryly. “At least I’m warned, I guess. Getting me prepared for May when everyone starts it.” 

Kurt smiles. “We’re very, very nice that way, and you love us for many reasons, including that one.” 

“Don’t worry, Grandpapa,” Finn says. “We still love you now that you’re practically elderly.”

“Gee, thanks,” Noah says, then lifts up his nearly-empty coffee cup. “To grandbabies?” 

Finn holds up his own coffee cup, laughing. “You know, if Noah’s going to be a grandfather, that technically makes us grandpas, too.”

“Shh…” Kurt says, then whispers “Granddad” as he lifts his own cup.

Noah laughs. “Exactly, and I heard that _Granddaddy_.” 

“Yep, we’re all so old,” Finn says happily.

“Yeah,” Noah says as they all bring their coffee cups together. “And as weird as we would have thought it twenty-five years ago, the next forty plus years might be even _better_.”


End file.
